


An Empty Place in These Bones

by batneko



Category: The Nightmare Before Christmas (1993), ワンパンマン | One-Punch Man
Genre: Crossover, Fake Character Death, Genos is Sally, I got really into the details of this world and how it works, M/M, Mutual Pining, Nightmare Before Christmas AU, Saitama is the Pumpkin King, and then it took me six months to write, more or less, whoops, world swap
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-06
Updated: 2017-03-06
Packaged: 2018-09-28 15:58:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 21,556
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10131191
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/batneko/pseuds/batneko
Summary: Halloween doesn't bring Saitama the Pumpkin King any joy any more, and Genos only wants to make him happy, but will stealing another town's holiday really help?





	

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by cute art of Saitama and Genos as Jack and Sally, I started this fic back in October. And now it's March.

The crowd had successfully worked itself into a frenzy as dawn approached; those among them who were sensitive to light already hurried home, and those, like Genos, who weren't up to the trip to the human world gathered around the fountain to watch the finale.

As always, the Pumpkin King was the last one to return. As always, he dragged every last second he could out of the night, got every last scare out of every last human. As always, he rose from the fountain a split second before the harsh human sunlight closed the portal. Due to the time difference dawn in Halloween Town was still a ways off, and the flickering torches and Jack 'o Lanterns lit what the glowing cauldrons didn't.

Saitama looked spectacular in the wavering light. Even the lingering radiance of the human sun through the portal brought out the smooth paleness of his skin, like milk, bleached white from years of undeath.

Genos couldn't resist a little sigh, and leaned against his friend the Hanging Tree. The closest skeleton chuckled and patted his head.

"You and half the town, pal," the Tree said.

"I know." Genos felt his hair catch on his friend's rough bark. "Can you blame me?"

Genos still remembered his first Halloween. It was only four years ago, but whatever life he'd had before the doctor revived him was long gone. As far as it mattered, Genos had been born in that lab and lived his whole life here.

And he remembered the first Halloween, only a couple months after that. He was still shaky on his feet, clinging close to Dr. Kuseno, watching the townsfolk hem and haw over whether to call it a night. No one noticed an ordinary dead man who was staying late, hiding in shadows, creeping like a spider, until one last group of adult humans heading home from a party screamed until they lost their voices, and Saitama returned to a townful of stares.

"What?" It was the first time Genos heard his voice.

"How did you do that?" The mayor, a masked phantom, asked. Kuseno had privately told Genos the mayor didn't do much scaring. Humans weren't afraid of his type anymore, they wanted... other things from them.

"Do what?"

"Scare a group of adults like that!"

Saitama shrugged. He was wearing muddy rags, like he'd just crawled from a grave. "I've been doing stuff like this every year. Did you only now notice?"

It wasn't until the next year that Saitama was crowned Pumpkin King. The title had been empty for some time (or so Genos heard), but there were whispers and rumors all year. About whether Saitama deserved it. About whether his scare was genuine. About whether he could repeat it.

He could, and better, and that year Genos was strong enough to stand by himself and watch him come home, watch him be crowned, watch the people cheer as they should have been all along.

This was his third year as the king of Halloween, and this year Genos had been hoping to contribute in some way. Saitama was dressed as a scarecrow, Jack 'o Lantern on his head, ragged clothes and straw sticking from the holes. Genos, with his stitches and homemade outfit, could have easily fit into the aesthetic. But the doctor forbid it, said he was still too delicate, and Genos... Genos popped a stitch on his elbow from applauding too hard, so he couldn't really disagree.

That didn't mean it stung any less.

The last remaining hour of darkness in Halloween Town was devoted to awards and recognition. Saitama deserved the most of it, of course. He was the one who made the vague "farm" theme the town voted on into something _truly_ frightening. Genos went to the town hall meetings. He'd seen the early proposals. He _knew_.

But he slipped away, out of modesty or exhaustion, and without him to watch Genos quickly lost interest. Sure these people might deserve their prizes, but Genos didn't care about any of them. Dr. Kuseno hadn't taken part this year, the Hanging Tree declined (despite being perfect for the theme) because they were grafting some new branches on, and the young werewolf Genos had started to befriend got dragged home early by his pack leader.

There was still time left. Genos didn't _have_ to go home yet, he wouldn't worry the doctor until the award ceremony was over. He could use this last hour however he saw fit. There wasn't really anything to do, but Genos got out of the lab unsupervised so rarely he didn't want to waste it.

He found himself strolling through the graveyard, gathering a few herbs and stuffing them in his many pockets. His sewing things were in one of them, and his left arm needed repair, but that could wait until he got home. It was only one stitch.

Or so he thought, until Genos reached out to grab some spiky leaves off a parasitic plant on a tree, and popped three more. His arm lost strength, the limb flopping backwards in a way it definitely shouldn't, and he let out an aggravated sigh. If he came home like _this_ Kuseno would definitely worry.

He settled down next to a large tombstone, marigolds budding in preparation for tomorrow, and fumbled around for his largest needle and some twine. His clothes used more delicate material, but to repair flesh you needed the heavy stuff.

Somewhere in the distance he heard barking. Genos thought it might be one of the werewolves, but there was an echo to it that didn't fit the area. The barking got closer, and Genos twisted around out of curiosity, only to catch a glimpse of the _last_ person he wanted to see him like this.

Saitama, as handsome as ever, walking with the ghost of his monster dog. He was wearing a black suit, with a ghostly white sheet pulled around his shoulders, and as he walked up the hill above the pumpkin patch Genos could see... something very weary on his face.

He stopped at the top of the hill, patted his leg so the dog came up and floated by his side, and stood there looking up at the sky.

The moon was beautiful tonight, just as it was every Halloween. It was never as big and full as it was on this night. But Saitama stared like he wasn’t even seeing it, like he was trying to look _through_ it to some answers hidden behind.

“It would be nice…” His fingers dipped through the sheer fur on his dog’s head. “It would be nice if it _meant_ something. Just once. If any of it meant _anything_.”

Genos, by the bright light of the moon, saw him close his eyes and rub them.

“It would be nice to feel _something_ after all this.”

Tears welled up in Genos’ eyes, making them burn, and he pressed his working hand to his mouth and sunk lower behind the tombstone. After everything he'd done, after all his accomplishments, after finally getting recognition of how amazing he was, Saitama felt this way? It didn't seem fair. He deserved nothing but happiness.

The truly awful part was, Genos thought he understood. After the wonder of his new life had worn off, and the limitations of it sunk in, for a while Genos had been angry, sad, frustrated. But he got so tired that hadn't felt _anything_. And that was worse, somehow, because he sunk down in that nothing so deep he couldn't see a way out, and didn't even care.

But when Dr. Kuseno realized how he felt he started making efforts to draw Genos out of it. He gave him chores, he taught him to sew, he encouraged him to make friends with the neighbors. When Genos began creating outfits from whatever bright scraps of cloth he took a liking to, he didn't exactly fit in with the town's aesthetic, but Kuseno helped as best he could because it was the first time Genos had been happy in months.

Genos didn't blame Kuseno for it. He _was_ fragile, and light, and the monsters of Halloween Town weren't used to people they couldn't roughhouse with. He didn't blame Kuseno for his lack of color sense either. No one in this town appreciated metallics or glitter.

Saitama started walking again, the hill unfolding obligingly to give him a path. Genos very nearly snuck behind the next couple tombstones to follow him, but he still had a lap full of thread and an arm that needed fixing.

If Saitama really felt the way Genos had, maybe Genos could help? Even if it was only by telling him he wasn't alone.

 

Genos went home at dawn. Dr. Kuseno noticed the repairs, and clicked his tongue in concern, but didn't say anything. He knew he couldn't take Halloween from Genos.

"It wouldn't be a problem if you could make me stronger," Genos said, unable to stop the words spilling from his lips. He regretted it the instant he saw the sadness on Kuseno's face.

"I'd like to, Genos, I would. You know that."

"I... I know. I'm sorry."

"You're frustrated, that's normal, and I understand. I'm trying to find new materials for you every day. But the power that keeps you mobile won't attach to everything."

"I know," Genos said again. He clenched his hands, one of his few parts that were completely intact, no stitches required. "I... I don't understand though. Everyone else- There are so many dead people in this town. Zombies, vampires, mummies, revenants like Saitama."

"Saitama again," Kuseno smiled.

"None of _them_ are weak, _they_ don't have parts dropping off. Well, the zombies do sometimes, but they pick them back up and it's fine. Why am I the only one like me?"

Kuseno was quiet for a long moment. Genos could hear the whirring of machines and bubbling of beakers in the lab.

"I'm sorry, Genos. I should have thought of this before I decided to revive you. If you'd wanted to get back up, you would have on your own."

For the second time tonight, Genos' eyes burned with unshed tears. "I didn't mean like that, doctor. I'm glad you revived me. I'm glad to be here."

"I wish I could do more for you."

"You do! I know you try!" Genos took his hand, thin and bony, but warm and alive.

Kuseno patted their layered hands. "It's already dawn, and tonight is the Day of the Dead, you want to be rested for the party."

"Yes," Genos agreed. Dia de Muertos was mostly for the ghosts; they got to go back to the human world and look in on their families, but the other residents liked to throw a little festival both to celebrate the ones without families, and thank the ones who returned.

"Let's go to bed then."

"Okay, doctor."

Genos carefully blew out all the candles and lanterns in his room. He liked their flickering light and spots of warmth, it made him feel comfortable, safe.

Despite the doctor being right, Genos lay awake for a long time. He couldn't stop thinking about Saitama in the graveyard, his face, his voice. If Genos had said something then, would it have helped? Could Genos approach him later, or would he look like a stalker?

He tossed and turned until he got a lump in his stuffing, and finally dropped off to sleep.

 

The festival that night was fun, but bittersweet. There were always a few ghosts who decided to pass on to the afterlife after seeing their families one last time, or accepting they'd been forgotten, or just wanting to go out with a bang. None of the walking dead really understood what it was like to be a ghost, trapped between two worlds, albeit voluntarily in the case of Halloween Town ones.

Genos looked, but didn't see Saitama anywhere. He usually at least made an appearance, but tonight, nothing.

He was by Kuseno's side all night but he got to see a few friends. As the fair wound down, much of the conversation turned to _next_ Halloween.

"Rumor has it the mayor is tapped for ideas," Garou reported. "He's been relying on the Pumpkin King too much."

"Saitama didn't come up with that farm theme," Genos said, offended at the very thought.

"No but he came up with the skeleton war last year."

"True..." Genos had been surprised how well that one caught on.

"Anyway, nobody's _seen_ Saitama since he got back from scaring."

Genos frowned. "No one?"

"His neighbors said he didn't come home."

Fear clutched Genos' chest, where his heart would be if he had one. Saitama wouldn't... He hadn't sounded _that_ depressed, but...

A commotion sounded from the end of the fair, near the town gates. Genos heard raised voices, excitement, and, curiously, the jingling of bells.

Garou ran off, faster than Genos could keep up, but Kuseno nodded at him to go ahead. He jogged up to the back of the crowd, and rose up on his toes trying to see.

"It's amazing!" Was that Saitama? Was he okay? He sounded excited, that was good... right? "I have to explain it, but there's too much. Call a town meeting!"

"When?" Genos heard the mayor ask.

"Immediat- Oh no, I'd need to set up, and it's still Dia de Muertos. Tomorrow, afternoon."

"Okay, it'll be ready."

"Great!" Saitama laughed, _happily_ , not menacing at all. It was a sound Genos had never heard.

His chest felt like his stuffing had caught fire.

The crowd parted to let something through, a low vehicle, green and gold and dripping some kind of white glop. Saitama was driving, a bright striped scarf around his neck and brass goggles around his eyes. The vehicle was dragging a couple boxes of things, colorful and sparkling and gleaming with rainbow light. It was _beautiful_.

Even last night, Genos had never wanted to follow Saitama as badly as he did right now. All those things, those mysterious wonderful things, were going with the man Genos admired so much.

"Weird," Garou muttered. "It looks like your sewing basket threw up, Genos."

"I love it," Genos sighed.

"Of course you do."

The mayor climbed onto the closest podium and clapped for attention. "Everyone disperse! There will be a town meeting tomorrow at," he whispered to an aide for a moment, "at two pm! Go back to the festival!"

Slowly, people did, drifting away in ones and twos. But Genos lingered for a moment. Some of the white glop from the vehicle had piled on the ground. It didn't look like slime, or ooze, and it was melting into what looked like ordinary water, albeit crystal clear.

"Genos?" Dr. Kuseno came up behind him. "What is it?"

"I don't know." Genos poked it with his toe. It was cold, crisp.

"Oh, snow. I haven't seen snow in years."

"Snow?" Genos felt his brow furrow.

"Where did it come from?"

"Saitama brought it. He went somewhere..." Genos poked the snow again. He wasn't sure if he _liked_ it, but it was fascinating.

"Somewhere with snow." Kuseno's face was stern. "Let's go, Genos. It's late." He started walking, quickly, without waiting to see if Genos would follow, or letting him say goodbye to his friends. Despite that, Genos followed obediently. He could feel a loose seam in his leg that he wanted to check before it got worse.

"Where does snow come from?" Genos asked.

"Other towns," Kuseno said curtly.

"Other towns? Like ours? Other holidays?"

He hesitated. "Halloween Town is... special. We have two holidays. Most other towns only have one. And some of them are quite small, if their holidays aren't celebrated by many humans."

Genos had to jog to keep up as they reached the main streets. "Like what?"

"Well, Thanksgiving. There's two of those, in two human countries, but it's _very_ small. Hardly more than a village."

"Is there snow in Thanksgiving Town?"

"Sometimes."

Genos glanced back at the fair, but all he was seeing was Saitama and the boxes of bright colors. "Do you think that's where Saitama went?"

"I hope so," Kuseno said, and refused to answer any more questions after that.

 

For the second night in a row, Genos couldn't sleep. He lit a small candle near his bed, placing it in a spider web patterned glass to send shadows dancing across his walls.

He was excited, so excited he could hardly stand it. Tomorrow Saitama would talk about where he'd been, about the wonders he'd seen, maybe _laugh_ again. Tomorrow Genos would know everything.

 

* * *

 

"You can't go."

"Why not?" Genos exclaimed. "It's a town meeting! Everyone is going!"

"I'm not," Kuseno pointed out, though given that he was elbow-deep in lake slime, Genos didn't think that was a good argument.

"It's only a meeting! I've been to lots of them. It's not strenuous."

"I don't care, Genos." He peeled off a glove and pointed in his face. "This isn't a _debate_ , it's a declaration. You're not leaving the lab today."

Genos watched him toss the glove into a bucket full of them, the rubber slowly melting from the slime's acidity.

"Why?" Genos said, trying to keep his voice level, trying not to whine. "Why can't I go? Why this time?"

"I know what's best for you, Genos." He pulled on a new set of gloves. "It's only a meeting, like you said. Wouldn't you have more fun helping me catalog all the organisms in the lake?"

There _were_ an awful lot of tiny eyes looking out of the slime. "Okay," Genos said glumly. "Are there more gloves?"

"One last pair." Kuseno gestured to the box. "I think there's more in the shed though." He looked down at his hands, already buried in goop and gently holding a wriggling creature that was mostly eyes and legs. "Why don't you go grab them? The keys are by the door."

"Okay," Genos said, hardly believing his luck.

The shed was full of so many boxes and tools that it could take ages to find the right thing. It was crowded and cluttered, and more than once Genos had snagged a thread on a rusty nail, so he hadn't been in there in weeks. He could slip away for twenty minutes, maybe half an hour if he pushed it, and Dr. Kuseno would have no idea.

He took the keys and carefully re-locked the gate on his way out, so even if Kuseno got suspicious he wouldn't know immediately that Genos had left. The lab was on the edge of town, not far from Saitama's house in fact, and Genos passed by the rickety tower on his way to the town hall. Saitama had done something up there that made the windows glow with a warm golden light that reminded Genos of his collection of candles.

But he couldn't linger, he only had a few minutes to dash across town (it took almost ten, since he didn't dare strain himself and risk a tear) and slip into the back of the hall.

It had already started. Genos couldn't see any seats, or see much at all over the heads of the townsfolk, but the Hanging Tree was standing against the back wall so Genos joined them. One of the skeletons offered him a hand up, and sitting in the branches Genos could finally see the stage.

"No," Saitama was saying, "it's not a warning. It's just... festive."

He was standing at the podium, the stage decorated with a scraggly fir tree covered in silver scraps and colorful balls, and a string of rainbow colored lights. Below it were several boxes wrapped in bold paper and metallic ribbon. And hanging on the wall nearby were red and green socks, also decorated, with little striped hooks sticking out of them. Genos felt the breath he didn't need catch in his throat.

"No," Saitama said again. The meeting had only been going on a few minutes, but he already sounded tired. "The stockings don't have feet in them."

Somebody in the front row waved their hand. "What's the point then? Why put candy in socks?"

"Well-" Saitama paused. "I don't... I don't know."

"Why so much effort just to give presents?" someone else asked. "Why not just give them?"

Genos muttered under his breath, "Why so much effort to scare humans?" and the Tree chuckled.

"Why do _we_ go to so much effort to scare humans?" Saitama said. Genos covered his mouth with his hands to hide his grin. "It's a holiday, just like ours!"

"But it's _dull_." The voice came from the rafters, where the mayor was lurking. Masked phantoms were fond of places like that.

"It's not dull!" Saitama snapped. "It's... it's quiet, compared to ours, but that's all right. It's about family, and friends, and we've mostly all got those."

 _Mostly_ , Genos noted. Saitama lived alone, and Genos would have heard if he was dating anyone.

"Is it..." Genos recognized the voice of one of the mummies. "Is it like reminding them of what they could lose?"

"No!" Saitama rubbed his eyes. "It's... Well..." Genos saw him look off to the side for a moment, thinking. "You know, our mayor leads the town, of course."

There was a murmur of agreement.

"And I lead the holiday festivities. But in Christmas Town, that's one person."

Another murmur, excited, and Genos heard the mayor scoff.

"They call him Father, and he rules over everything. I only caught a glimpse of him, but he's massive, imposing." Saitama drew himself up to his full height. "He dresses in the color of blood, and I heard one of his minions talk about him going out to slay."

A few impressed 'ooh's.

Saitama curled his long fingers. "His true name is Sandy Claws."

Something about that sounded wrong. Genos couldn't put his finger on it, but why would a holiday about presents and family have a murderous cult leader?

The crowd didn't agree, they were applauding and cheering, even a couple of the Tree's skeletons.

"All in favor of celebrating Christmas?" the mayor called from up above. This time Genos clapped along, because he liked most of what he'd seen, but...

But...

But the look on Saitama's face as he left the stage wasn't excited, wasn't happy. He looked the way he had in the graveyard. Emotionless. Weary.

Genos' chest ached for him.

 

He'd been gone for well over the thirty minute stretch he'd allocated himself when he got back to the lab, and he wasn't surprised at all to find Kuseno waiting by the gate with acid burns on his sleeves.

Genos handed back the keys without a word.

"You know you're grounded. For the weekend at least."

"I know," Genos said.

"And you're cleaning out the sink traps."

"I know."

"Was it worth it?"

"I don't know," Genos admitted. "It was strange. Do you know much about Christmas, doctor?"

He pressed his lips together. "So it _was_ Christmas. Yes, I know some. I've been there before."

Genos followed him into the house. "Really?"

"I traveled quite a bit in my younger days. The pursuit of mad science leads to unexpected places."

"What's it like?"

"Cold outside, warm inside. They sing loudly about silent nights. And everything, everything is so _bright_. It's very different from our town."

"It gets cold here," Genos said thoughtfully. "And there's music sometimes. I... I think I liked it. But no one else understood. I don't know why. It seemed fairly straightforward. Celebrating family, and loved ones. A little like the Day of the Dead."

Kuseno shook his head, locking the door behind them. "Many of the people in town still don't understand the Day of the Dead either."

"Don't they?"

"I was only a boy when the towns decided to merge. I'm mortal, so perhaps my perspective is different, but it's hard for Halloween residents to wrap their minds around a holiday that isn't meant to be scary. They think that just because it's about ghosts and skulls, that it must be same."

Genos found himself frowning. "Why combine at all?"

"Self-preservation. Too many humans already confused the two. It was easier to join forces and get the people of Halloween Town on their side, than keep fighting until they were overwhelmed."

"That's awful!"

"But they're still here." Kuseno took a small sugar skull out of the bowl of leftover Halloween candy. "Humans know the difference now. They might celebrate a day early, or only in name, but they remember. If anything, it's more popular now."

"Then..." Genos scowled harder, feeling strain on his mouth stitches. "Then what's wrong with us celebrating Christmas?"

"Dia de Muertos was a unique case. We were neighbors to begin with, and many of the ghosts were dual residents." Kuseno shook his head. "It's not like what happened with Mardi Gras..."

"What happened with Mardi Gras?"

"A few years after we merged with Dia de Muertos, they invited us to celebrate. We do have a few things in common with them, costumes, parties. It seemed like a harmless idea." He sighed. "I was still young, but... there was a lot of screaming. And fire."

"Sounds fun!"

"Not for the people of Mardi Gras."

"Oh." Genos pictured that lovely decorated tree engulfed in flames. "Oh... No, that wouldn't be nice at all."

"No." Kuseno handed the sugar skull to Genos, who popped it in his mouth. "Holidays weren't meant to mix. At least, not like this."

Genos' teeth crunched through the candy. "But if all we do is celebrate here, what harm can we do?"

"I'm sure someone will think of something." Kuseno jingled the keys, reminding Genos of those little silver bells. "I still need that box of gloves, you know."

"Oh! Yes, doctor."

 

* * *

 

For a few days Genos was isolated, shut away in the lab and his room, kept busy with chores. He didn't like being treated like a child, but his mind was full of shiny boxes and green fir trees and rainbow lights. It was easy to let his thoughts drift to happier things, to the sight of Saitama in that striped scarf, while emptying goo and shed exoskeletons from the sinks.

Once he was ungrounded he rushed to find out what the town's thoughts on Christmas were, but the answer was a shrug and a wiggly hand gesture. No one seemed particularly enthused.

"It's not that interesting," the Hanging Tree said.

"Don't you want to be decorated? We could put lights in you. Dress up your skeletons in hats and scarves. You could be a caroling choir all by yourself!"

"Why would I want that?" the Tree asked, wrinkling up their knothole eyes in utter confusion.

Garou's verdict was much the same. "It's too flashy. I don't like all those colors."

"Can you even see color?" Genos asked.

"Yes! Mostly. Not red and green."

"There was a lot of red and green involved," Genos told him.

"Well I don't like it!"

Genos was disheartened, especially when Garou filled him in on the gossip about Saitama.

"He shut himself away in his house, hasn't come out in days. He's doing experiments or something. One of my packmates said he visited your creator to borrow lab equipment."

"What?" Genos exclaimed. "Why wouldn't Kuseno tell me?"

"Maybe because he knows you would have had a panic attack if you knew Saitama was in your home at the same time as you?"

Genos rushed home, furious, only to be handed an empty basket as soon as he burst through the door.

"I know, I know," Kuseno said. "But you were covered in grease and I thought you wouldn't want to be seen like that."

"But- but-"

"So how about you take some extra equipment over to him instead?"

Genos' mouth worked silently.

"You can get changed and do your hair first, and it will give you a perfect excuse to talk to him."

Genos had never loved his creator as much as he did right now. " _Thank_ you!"

Along with extra slides and beakers and a refill on Bunsen fuel, Genos packed some thick mealworm loaf sandwiches and a bottle of poison apple cider. While Kuseno was carefully packing up the beakers, Genos also filled a pipette with absinthe and grabbed a couple sugar skulls to pour it over.

Doing his hair took longer, and he tried on about seven different shirts, and then had to fix his hair _again_ , so by the time he was heading out it was getting dark. Saitama's house was a street away from the lab, too far to see from their windows (and Genos had tried all of them), but as he got closer Genos could see it was unlit except for the flickering glow from the tower.

Along the way Genos stopped and plucked a sprig from a tree parasite he didn't know the name of, with small round leaves and little red berries, and tucked it behind his ear. It smelled nice and balanced his colorful outfit with his pale face and hair. He wished he'd thought to bring a mirror, but it would have to do.

With a hand shaking so hard his wrist was coming loose, Genos rang the bell. A shriek went through the house, and Genos heard thumping from upstairs, a creak of metal, and a voice (a familiar, fantastic voice) call, "Who is it? I'm very busy!"

Genos stepped back from the door so Saitama could see him from the tower window. He tried to think of how to introduce himself, but before he could, Saitama said, "Oh, sorry. Be right down!"

The window clacked shut, and now Genos listened to rushing footsteps and creaking floorboards, growing steadily more nervous, until the door was yanked open in front of him and Saitama, the Pumpkin King, was looking him right in the eyes. This close, Genos could see the ghost lights in them, orangey-yellow like a Jack o' Lantern

He was wearing a purple dressing gown embroidered with cobwebs, and a white undershirt that left a good portion of skin exposed, all of it pale and smooth. Saitama was less desiccated than most revenants, possibly the result of a particularly well-built body when he was alive, the only real signs he _wasn't_ being his hollow eye sockets and withered lips, and, of course, the open slash wound on his neck.

"Hi, sorry. Genos, right? Dr. Kuseno's?"

"Yes!" Genos said, too loud, jerking his eyes back up from Saitama's chest. "I didn't think you- you knew who I was."

Saitama's (perfect) brow furrowed. "Really? You stand out."

Genos wasn't sure if that was good or bad, so he held out the basket. "Extra supplies. Since- since the doctor thought you'd be running out of slides."

"Great! I was. Come on in."

Genos held his breath as he entered Saitama's home for the first time. It was smaller than he expected, and somewhat cluttered, a green garland wrapped around the edge of a table, and a bowl of orange fruits, and crystal clear white lights dripping from the stair rail ahead.

"Do you like it?" Saitama asked, smiling a little.

"Yes," Genos blurted, aware his voice was too loud again. Maybe the staples on his ears were coming loose. "It's lovely. I like those lights, they're different from the rainbow ones. But I like the rainbow ones too."

"You do?" Saitama's smile widened. "These are supposed to look like icicles."

"What are those?" Genos asked, sure he sounded like an idiot.

Instead of chiding him, Saitama made a clawlike motion with his fingers. "When it gets cold enough, water dripping off of a roof can freeze into points."

"Oh! That sounds beautiful."

"It is. It's really cool." He snorted to himself, Genos belatedly realizing he'd made a pun.

He couldn't quite bring himself to force a laugh. Apparently Saitama wasn't completely perfect after all.

"I've been working up in the tower, want to see?"

"Okay," Genos said without hesitation.

He followed Saitama up the winding staircase, the lights changing along the way as each string ended. From white icicles to gold balls to rainbow teardrops. Up here was, Genos realized to equal parts thrill and horror, Saitama's bedroom. He'd set up a makeshift lab on a desk and table, he had books and an unlit Jack o' Lantern strewn across his bed, the ghost dog was gnawing happily on a striped candy hook, and the tree from the town meeting was taking up the last bit of available floor space. Saitama scooted around it to the desk.

"What do you think?" he asked.

"About your lab setup? Or the decorations?"

"Both, I guess."

"I like the decorations," Genos said firmly. "It's very nice. I like how you put the lights around your bed."

Genos regretted that comment instantly, but Saitama just nodded. "It's cheery, right? And I've been reading all these Christmas stories. There's a lot!"

"Well, the humans make a lot of Halloween stories too."

"They do," Saitama agreed. "What about my lab?"

Genos peered at it cautiously. If it was Halloween materials that Saitama was analyzing, Genos would have expected something to explode, and not intentionally. But instead he saw flecks of glitter suspended in water, a beaker that was giving off a pulsing red glow, and a strangely uncracked and clean doll that had been cut into pieces.

"What are... you looking for?"

"I don't really know." Saitama picked up the doll's head. "Answers, I guess. What makes this the way it is? Why are lights and glitter a source of happiness?"

"Why do they put candy in socks?" Genos said.

"Oh no, I figured that one out!" Saitama went past him, touching Genos' arm briefly and making him tingle all over. He picked up a book left open on his bed. "The humans, before they had things like dryers and central heating, they'd hang socks up to dry by the fireplace or stove. And Sandy Claws, he's the one who delivers the presents, he'd put small things like candy or fruit in the socks, as an extra surprise."

"Oh!" Genos leaned over Saitama to look at the book, and sure enough there was an illustration of children hanging up normal-sized socks by a wood stove.

"But it became well known that he did that, and somebody invented the clothes dryer, and now it's just tradition. That's why the socks are so big and decorated."

"I see." Genos nodded. His shoulder bumped Saitama's, but he was almost (almost) too fascinated by the book to notice.

"There's other traditions I haven't figured out yet. Like the trees. I mean, they look nice, they're green even during winter, but why drag one inside?"

"Green in winter?" Genos repeated. "What's the significance of that?"

"Oh, you've never been to the human world, have you." Saitama looked at him, expression unreadable. Genos hoped it wasn't _pity_ he was seeing in the lights of Saitama's eyes.

"No, I haven't."

"In some parts of the world, the parts that started these traditions, most of the trees lose their leaves in winter. They grow in green, unlike here." The leaves in Halloween Town ran from yellow to red, sometimes turning brown before falling off, sometimes not, and grew in those colors. "But fir trees, the kinds with needles, they're green unless they're _dead_. So it's nice for the humans to see proof of something still alive even in the cold."

"So they cut it down? Kill it themselves?"

Saitama smiled. "Yeah I don't- I don't know. Sometimes humans just _do_ things." He pointed at Genos' ear, and Genos wondered if it was falling off, until Saitama added, "There's a tradition about _that_ too."

Genos reached up and found the sprig of parasitic plant he'd put in his hair. "This?"

"It's called mistletoe. They hang it from the ceiling, and... um..." Saitama trailed off, staring at him. The lights in his eyes seemed to be getting brighter, warmer. "When two people meet under it, they have to..."

His eyes were fixed on Genos' mouth for some reason, but he didn't look like he was going to continue. "What?"

"I- I forgot." Even Genos could tell he was lying, but he couldn't point it out and risk offending him. Saitama coughed and took a step away, snapping the book shut. "Well uh. Thanks. For bringing the stuff over."

"Oh..." Genos knew a brush-off when he heard one. "You're welcome. I- I packed some food for you too. If that's not presumptuous."

The warm light returned. "It's not. It's not at all. Thank you, Genos."

He walked Genos out, and wished him a good night, and though it felt about a hundred times colder outside with the absence of all those Christmas lights, Genos was warmed from within. He'd had a conversation with Saitama, Saitama _knew his name_ , he'd _touched_ him. Genos could hardly imagine how that could have gone better.

He went home and told Dr. Kuseno everything, and though he got a lecture for taking the absinthe, Genos couldn't manage to feel sorry for it.

 

At least, not until the next morning when he was woken by Saitama leaning out his tower window and shouting to the town at large that they were going to take over Christmas.

Over breakfast, Genos nervously asked, "You don't think that was my fault, do you?"

"If it was the absinthe talking, he'll forget all about it," Kuseno assured him. "So let's hope it _was_ your fault."

Genos groaned.

 

* * *

 

For a few days it seemed like Dr. Kuseno was right and Saitama had forgotten about his proclamation and was going on with his research on his own. It wasn't until three days later, mid morning, that Genos saw Saitama headed toward the town hall with poster board under his arm. He gave a manic sort of grin when he saw Genos and Kuseno, and waved.

"Meeting tonight! Big things! I hope you'll both come."

"We will," Genos said automatically, but when Saitama moved on Kuseno took his arm and tugged him to move faster. Weighted down with groceries as he was, Genos couldn't really add much speed, but he did his best.

"I didn't like that look," Kuseno said as they walked. "I've seen that before. The spark of madness."

"But _you're_ mad."

"Yes! So I know how badly it can go!"

Before they even reached the lab the announcement was going out over the loudspeakers; a meeting that evening to plan the takeover of Christmas, and specific jobs for everyone in town. They listened to the mayor repeat it a few times, enjoying the sound of his own voice as much as ever, and when they got tired of that Kuseno started closing the blast shutters on the windows.

"You're not going to ban me from this one, are you?" Genos asked, sounding more sullen than he meant to.

"No, I think we'd both better attend." Kuseno put a hand on Genos' shoulder and looked him in the eyes. "Genos, I know you have feelings for Saitama, but I trust your judgment, and I believe his is compromised right now."

Reluctantly, Genos nodded.

"If I try to talk him out of it, will you back me up?"

If Saitama took it badly, it meant Genos might never have a chance to get to know him better. But his plan, whatever it was, involved invading another town's holiday. Even with the best intentions, that wasn't right.

"Yes, doctor," Genos said quietly. Hopefully Saitama wasn't setting his whole heart on this. Hopefully he would see reason without hating the ones who showed it to him.

 

All the same, Genos made an effort to look nice before they went to the meeting. It took so long that they were almost late, and he didn't have time to put anything in his hair, but they arrived barely on time to find a line of townsfolk stretching out the doors.

"What's this?" Kuseno asked Silver Fang, the leader of Garou's wolf pack.

"Everyone is being given a job," he said.

"And everyone's accepting them?"

Silver Fang shrugged, his wolves beginning to bicker and wrestle behind him as his attention was diverted. "The Pumpkin King is quite fired up. Could be fun." He stuck two fingers in his mouth and apparently whistled, though Genos couldn't hear a thing. The werewolves all stopped what they were doing and whined. "And," he added to Kuseno, "it will give my children something to keep them busy."

Most of the town had come, to Genos' surprise. For the tiny amount interest in _celebrating_ Christmas, they sure seemed on board with _conquering_ it.

There were still a few no-shows. Genos didn't see any representatives of the town's other scientist, Bofoy, or the lake residents. Only a couple vampires had come, huddling under parasols and squinting against the light.

Folks exiting the hall were mostly loaded down with bags or boxes, a couple carrying stacks of sheet music, and all of them looked excited. The energy in the crowd was nearly that of the week before Halloween.

The line moved continuously, and that was a part of it. The anticipation of what task the Pumpkin King would have for you. Genos didn't dare get his hopes up; of course Saitama would have a job for Dr. Kuseno, he was the premiere mad scientist in town. Genos was nothing but a mostly-successful creation.

Inside the hall the atmosphere was even more excited, everyone chattering, looking around at the charts and lists on the stage. Saitama was demonstrating a doll to some vampires, and though they looked dubious, Genos heard them talking on the way out about ideas for improvement.

"Genos!"

Genos looked up, stunned to see Saitama waving at him from the stage.

"Sorry, I've got to talk to him." Saitama hopped off the stage, striding past the people in line ahead of him. "I'm glad you're here." He put his hand on Genos' back, starting to steer him away. "I need your help more than anyone's."

"You do?" Genos felt like he was hallucinating. "I mean... you do, yes. Doctor-" Genos turned back to him, but Kuseno wasn't following.

Belatedly, Saitama noticed he hadn't been alone. "Oh, sorry doc. Mind if I borrow him?"

"Not at all," Kuseno said mildly.

"I've got a job for you too, don't worry."

Genos was hustled up the stairs and back into the wings, where Saitama had piles of books and more charts. He let go and dug through a pile of papers, before producing a yellow sheet and a drawing.

"You make your clothes, don't you?" Saitama asked.

Genos nodded, suddenly very self-conscious. Was he trailing thread? Did he look like a scrap basket?

"I hoped so. My usual tailor was completely lost when I explained." Saitama showed Genos two pictures. One, a large elderly mortal man, in a red coat trimmed with white fur. One, Saitama himself, with a similar outfit sketched on top of his suit.

"Oh, you'd be Sandy Claws?"

"Yes! Can you do it?"

"Well, I've never worked with fur before. I'm not sure where to _get_ white fur around here." He looked at Saitama, at the hope on his handsome face, at the lights of his eyes flickering like Jack o' Lantern candles. "Yes, I can do it."

"Great!" Saitama took a note from his pocket and scratched something off. "That's a relief. I'm hoping you can help me with some of the overall design stuff too. You're like the only person in town with any color sense."

" _Thank_ you!" Genos said, a lifetime of exasperation in two syllables. Saitama grinned at him.

"So there's decorations, presents, my vehicle. I'm asking Dr. Kuseno for help with that. But we need to get like, a guide for everyone to follow. What's good, what's not, what's only good when paired with other stuff."

Genos nodded again, thoughtfully. "I'm not sure... I know red and green, and white, but the rainbow lights are their own thing? And I think gold and silver are both okay?"

Saitama gave him a look of awe. "You, wow, you got that _fast_. I have references for you, if you want. There's a lot of books I uh, 'borrowed.'"

For a moment, Genos was brought back to earth. They were talking about _stealing_ a _holiday_. "Y- yes, but, um, Saitama I've been thinking..."

"Yeah?"

"Are you sure-" Genos had no plan and no backup, but he rushed ahead before he could back down. "Are you sure you want to do this?"

"What?" Saitama frowned. "Have a little faith in yourself, Genos! I do."

"Wh- No, that's not what I-"

"Don't worry about finding material, I'll handle that."

"No, I mean _this_." He waved his hands at the charts. "Taking over a holiday? Are... are you sure you want to go this far?"

For a second, Saitama's eyes blazed red. " _Yes_. I'm sure. You don't see yet, Genos, but you will. I can make Christmas _better_."

"Well, it's only..." Genos fought the part of himself heating up at the intensity in Saitama's voice. "We work all year to make Halloween spectacular. Don't the people of Christmas Town do too?"

"Sure. I mean, I guess. It sounds like it's mostly the same stuff every year."

"But it's a lot of _work_ , too." Saitama had pinned up a map of the human world, several countries colored red, and Genos poked the largest of them. "How many children are getting presents? Millions? A billion? We've never tried to scare _every single child_ on the planet."

"It's not every child," Saitama corrected. "Only _most_." As if that made a difference. "And that's part of the challenge! We've barely got over a month to get ready."

"Is that what this is to you?" Genos was too surprised to soften his tone. "A _challenge_?"

Saitama gave him a look Genos hadn't been expecting. Not angry, not guilty, he looked...

Tired. Weary. Like he had in the graveyard.

"I don't know. Maybe it is. But I think I can do it, Genos. I think _we_ can make this Christmas unique, special. One to remember."

"I don't doubt that," Genos said. None of those words were necessarily good things, and Genos got the feeling Saitama meant it that way.

"Anyway," Saitama moved on quickly, face going back to cautiously optimistic, "it's not like we'd be taking their _only_ holiday. Some countries," he indicated a large green one, "celebrate in January."

"Really?"

"And they do a few deliveries the night before, for families who open presents on Christmas Eve instead."

"Oh..."

Saitama handed Genos a book. "It's all in here. It's fascinating! Humans are so weird."

Genos couldn't help smiling. "So I've heard."

"I mean it! For a holiday that's supposed to be about family and love, they tell some awfully sad stories. There's one about a little girl dying alone in the snow."

Genos' mouth dropped open. "That's _awful_! What kind of story is that?"

"Beats me. And then there's a whole song about a kid trying to buy shoes for his dying mother."

"Who would sing that?!"

"Humans!" Saitama took the book from Genos' hands. "It's- You were at my first town hall meeting about this, right? Did you hear that one lady ask if it was about reminding humans of what they have to lose?"

"Oh... yes."

"I wouldn't think you'd forget. I know everything good that I have, I'm _always_ afraid of losing."

"I..." Genos bit his lip. Saitama's eyes got warmer. "I think I know what you mean."

"Really? Nobody else does." His candle-bright eyes pierced straight to Genos' empty chest. "Are you with me?" He asked. Quietly adding, "Because I think I really need you."

Genos swallowed hard. What was he supposed to say? How could he turn his back on Saitama _now_? "Yes. Yes, I'm with you."

"Great! Take these then." Saitama pushed the pictures into his hands. "And this." The book about Christmas traditions. "And these too." Several slim volumes that looked like kids books.

Genos was so weighted down he worried for the structural integrity of his arms. "Okay..."

"What I need right away are like, color schemes."

"I can do that," Genos said, confident about this, if nothing else.

"Then we'll worry about my suit. Sound good?"

"Sounds good," Genos confirmed.

"Great!" It was the third time he'd said it in this conversation alone. Genos wondered who he was trying to be so positive for. "Okay I'd better get back to the line before they riot."

Saitama clapped him on the shoulder, too hard, and Genos felt his seam split. The strength went out of his arm, but he clutched it with the other and managed to hold on to everything.

"Can you come by my house tomorrow? One PM?"

"Sure," Genos said. He could feel more stitches pulling. If he wasn't careful he could lose stuffing.

"Okay, until tomorrow then."

Genos just nodded, leaving Saitama to call up the next person, heading down the steps cautiously, hurrying past the muttering crowd, and finding Kuseno who immediately discerned the problem and took the books away.

"Why didn't you tell him it was too much?"

"It wasn't!" Genos defended himself. He hadn't thought to bring twine with him. "I can get them home if you give me a quick patch up."

Kuseno had some waxed string that Genos didn't like much, too stiff, but it would hold for now. They stepped out of line and set the books down on a seat while Kuseno sewed him up.

"You'll have to wait longer now," Genos said, dismayed, until he heard Saitama's voice ring out from the stage again.

"Doc, I need to know if you can do something before I send the wolves to gather materials."

"Wait for me?" Kuseno asked, and Genos took a seat next to the books.

While Saitama and Kuseno poured over a diagram of some kind of fancy casket being pulled by deer, Genos started flipping through the kids books. They were different stories, but they all had elements in common. The old man in red, whose name turned out to be Santa Claus, not Sandy. A village in the snow. Presents and chimneys.

Taking a color palette from this would be easy, Genos was more concerned with how well-known Christmas Town was to the humans. Most holiday towns were secretive, secluded, but Christmas Town was world famous!

When Kuseno returned his brow was furrowed and his pockets loaded with rolled-up parchment. Genos gathered up his things (allowing Kuseno to carry most of the books), and followed him out.

"Did you try to talk to him?"

"A little," Kuseno said. "I didn't expect- He's thought this through. More than I expected."

"I might have made it worse," Genos said. "I tried too, so he already had answers ready."

"No, son," Kuseno assured him. "You couldn't have done anything else. For now we'll have to keep casting doubt." He took a blueprint from his coat, squinting at the bit he could unroll even with a book under his elbow. "And perhaps a bit of sabotage."

"I didn't think you were going to agree to help at all."

"I _wasn't_ , but he appealed to my baser nature."

"Baser?"

"He threatened to ask Bofoy instead."

"Bofoy?" Genos repeated. "But he works in a completely different discipline!"

"That's what I said!" Kuseno agreed. "And even given my minimal knowledge of Christmas, his work would _not_ be a good fit."

Genos nodded, wincing at the thought. Mad science could be beneficial, benevolent even. But Bofoy was an _evil_ scientist. Many of his experiments had no purpose but amusement. And that was all well and good during Halloween, so long as he didn't try to abduct any humans as test subjects, again, but Christmas had no room to indulge him.

"What are you doing, then?"

"Constructing a flying vehicle. The werewolves are going to catch some of those black stags from the north woods, and I'll reanimate them into something more like what this Christmas father person has."

"Oh, that doesn't sound too bad." Reanimating animals was so easy even Genos could do it on his own.

"I think the propulsion will have to be in the vehicle itself." That familiar look, the spark of madness, had entered Kuseno's eyes. "To go around the world in a single night... It's doable, of _course_ it's doable, if that Christmas man can do it with _magic_ I can certainly do it with _science_."

He began muttering about lightning and chemical salts and Genos tuned him out. There was no getting through to Kuseno when he was fired up about a new project.

For the next few days at least, sowing the seeds of doubt in Saitama's mission would be up to Genos. If he could keep his mind on the goal when presented with the prospect of working with Saitama in his house.

They passed by it, empty and dark except for a green candle in one window. Would they be alone together? Would Saitama trust Genos enough to confide in him? Would Genos get to take his measurements for the new suit?

Genos allowed himself a shiver. This... was going to be a challenge.

 

* * *

 

In the effort of taking his mind off things, Genos dove into preparing the color palettes Saitama had asked for. It proved to be a bit more work than anticipated. Saying "red and green" was one thing, but which reds? Which greens? How dark, how much blue, how saturated. Genos had stacks of fabric and paint swatches by dawn, and barely managed a nap before getting back to work after a late breakfast.

When he made his way over to Saitama's house Genos had a basket full the fruits of his labor, carefully clutched in both hands to prevent strain. He had to set it down to ring the bell, and was greeted barely a few seconds later by Saitama flinging the door open in a cloud of glitter.

"Come in, come in." He was wearing a different dressing gown, acid green with bloodshot eyeballs on the pockets, over his pinstripe suit pants and bone white shirt. A perfect example of the _wrong_ kind of red and green.

Saitama had expanded his research to the sitting room, just as cramped as his bedroom, but all the furniture was pushed aside to make room for a chart made of twine, and the world map from the town hall. Saitama hadn't bothered to decorate here, but there were toys tucked everywhere, cylinders of wrapping paper, piles of tangled string lights, and it managed to look festive anyway. And, just as upstairs, there were books on every available surface.

The map was almost entirely colored in now, some green, a lot of red, and a few blues, as well as sprouting gold and silver push pins.

Saitama noticed Genos looking at it. "The red ones celebrate on December 24th or 25th, those are our stops. I've been trying to chart out the best course to hit the right countries on the right days, but it's not a priority yet. The green ones celebrate in January, we're not worrying about those. Unless," he grinned, "we do such a good job that Santa asks for our help."

"Right..."

"And the blues don't celebrate at all. Or at least not with presents."

"Christmas is awfully popular, isn't it?" Genos wasn't sure how many countries celebrated Halloween, but nowhere near the amount of red he was looking at now.

"So we have a lot to do!" Saitama clapped his hands and rubbed them eagerly. "Do you have something to show me?"

"Yes, plenty." Genos moved a few of the books off what proved to be a desk and started laying out his charts. He'd made very careful squares with paint and tape, showing the gradient of acceptable shades. "This is the very basics. Red in this range, green in this. Secondary colors are white and blue, but blue can _only_ be paired with white or metallics, not red or green."

Saitama pulled out a chair and took a dusty Jack o' Lantern off it to hold in his lap. "Go on."

"In terms of decorations and especially gift wrapping, nearly all colors are found, but generally to the highly saturated end of the spectrum. Eggplant, for example, is fine but lavender would be very strange. Most pastels are out, unless paired with metallics and white or cream."

Genos glanced at Saitama to see how he was following along, and saw his eyelights unfocused.

"Are you getting this?"

"Mostly?" Saitama tried to smile, then shook his head. "No. Can you summarize?"

"Rich, bold colors to remind you of warmth and celebration," Genos said, displaying his swatches. "Soft, gentle colors to remind you of snow and winter."

"Okay..." Saitama nodded, focused once again. "I can probably get that right, but do you think anyone else in town will?"

"No," Genos said flatly. "Which is why we need to make some large charts for the decoration and present departments to follow."

"More charts," Saitama muttered. "Better than screwing it all up, I suppose."

"Is it really so different from what we do for Halloween?" Genos pointed out. "I've been to a lot of the planning meetings at town hall."

"I know." Saitama stood up and put the pumpkin back in its seat. "I saw you. You come to most of them, but you never talk."

Genos felt suddenly uncomfortable, pierced by Saitama's gaze. "I- I'm not the only one. Lots of people come just to watch and keep up."

"It's not a _bad_ thing," Saitama said. He gave a soft smile. "I wish you had, is all."

"Oh." The discomfort intensified. "Um. Well. Shall we continue?"

They set out plans for larger charts, as well as providing all the colors required. It looked less and less like Halloween Town was equipped to make Christmas toys in large numbers.

"There is another way..." Saitama pursed his lips thoughtfully. "I was hoping it wouldn't come to this, but Santa will have everything prepared already when he sets out."

There was a sinking sensation in Genos' chest. "How did you plan on stopping him?"

"Already arranged." He waved his hand like it wasn't a concern. "But if we need the toys as well as the list of children, we'll have to wait until the last second. I don't like cutting it so close."

"I guess there's no way around it," Genos jumped on the opportunity in front of him. "We have to let Santa deliver the toys and celebrate on our own. Oh well."

"Don't be so pessimistic!" Saitama patted his back, hard. Something popped in Genos' shoulder blade area. "We can still do it. We'll prepare as best we can, maybe prioritize one thing for each family, like a decoration. And make as many toys as possible."

"And... and if we don't have enough? Won't the children be disappointed?"

"If we don't manage, we'll get Santa's." Saitama flipped through Genos' fabric swatches. "Maybe I should take another trip to Christmas Town. Raid the workshop."

"Steal from them?" Genos interpreted.

"Is it stealing if it's going to the same use it would be there?" Saitama asked, although a second later he answered himself. "Yes, okay, it is. But it's worth it!"

"Where did you get all these books, anyway? From Christmas Town?"

"Only a few. The rest I got in the human world."

Genos nearly dropped into a chair. If the Jack o' Lantern wasn't in it he would have given in to the urge instead of merely clutching the back of it to hold himself up.

" _How_?" he demanded. "I thought the portal only opened on Halloween!"

"Yeah, the main one." Saitama pulled aside a curtain, letting in daylight, and a view of the woods. "In places where the border is thin, you can get through if you know the way."

"The border? How is that- What if a human stumbled through?"

"They couldn't, they couldn't," Saitama assured him. "I'm a creature of Halloween, and a wandering soul besides-"

He was?

"-so I can do it pretty easily. I think for even somebody like you, you'd have to find a mausoleum or an empty run-down house in the woods. Somewhere that embodies Halloween no matter the time of year."

"You..." The knowledge was dizzying. "You can go back and forth? Whenever you want?"

"Anybody can! It's not a _secret_. I'm just good at it."

"I didn't know." Genos shook his head. "I knew Dr. Kuseno had traveled a lot when he was studying mad science, but he never mentioned the human world."

"Maybe he never went. Human science is pretty boring compared to ours." Saitama shrugged.

"Do... Did you steal the books from humans, then?"

"Didn't have to. I found most of them at an abandoned old elementary school. Nice and spooky, easy."

"Oh..." Genos decided not to question the 'most' part.

Saitama was looking at him sideways. "You're, uh, a little sheltered, huh?"

"I- I guess so. I'm only four."

"Fuh!" Saitama choked on nothing and started coughed. Genos, carefully since he wasn't sure which arm was loose, patted his back. When he'd recovered enough to talk, Saitama said, "That's since you were revived, right?"

"Yes."

Saitama relaxed under Genos' hand.

"But I can't remember my previous life at all."

Saitama's forehead furrowed. "Nothing? Not even dreams?"

He shook his head.

"Huh." Saitama straightened up, to Genos' dismay. His shirt had fallen open while he was coughing, giving Genos a clear view down it. "You're really something, aren't you? You're... you're not like anyone else in town."

Genos withdrew his hand from Saitama's back. It clearly wasn't needed any more, so leaving it would be weird. "I don't think I am."

"That's not a bad thing."

"No?" Saitama was very close, Genos realized. His eyes were doing that warm glow again.

"Not at all," he said. "You're you. How could that be a bad thing?"

Genos felt like he might catch fire from Saitama's gaze. "Thank you," he mumbled, and Saitama withdrew to a polite distance.

After that the conversation was strictly business. Saitama outlined the things they'd be making, the materials needed, and the timeframe it had to be done in. He asked Genos to come back the next day, and Genos was more than happy to agree.

 

The next few days passed like a dream, albeit sometimes a feverish one. Nearly every day Genos spent time alone with Saitama, talking, planning. Saitama respected his opinions, maybe even liked him, but it was always about Christmas. Always about this crazy plan of his.

The rest of the town was getting into it. It was easier to care about something when you had a personal stake, and Saitama had pitched it as _improving_ the holiday rather than a hostile takeover.

Kuseno had been stalled by the same tactic. Building a flying vehicle and hitching it to likewise flying deer was exactly the kind of creative experiment he most enjoyed. Genos found him one day boiling the meat off a carcass while several members of Silver Fang's pack waited around for the parts Kuseno didn't need.

"There you are," Kuseno greeted Genos when he peered through the door. "Venison for dinner tonight."

"Okay," Genos said. He had his sewing basket in one arm, and sketchbook in the other, so he didn't want to get in the way, but for the sake of the werewolves watching he asked, "Do you need help?"

"No, this is simple. Just takes time." He gave a pointed look at his guests. "Quite a bit of time, so there's no point in sitting around staring at me."

Grumbling and whining, the wolves got up and wandered off in various directions. Garou met Genos in the doorway, sniffing the air around him.

"What is that?"

"Peppermint."

"It's weird." He sniffed again, and sneezed.

"I know." Genos shuffled his basket to offer Garou a scrap of cloth that had been rejected for being too teal.

He snuffled into it, giving Genos a knowing glance over the scalloped edge. "You been over at the Pumpkin King's house again?"

"Yes." Genos didn't try to resist a smug smile.

Garou offered the fabric back, and instead Genos started leading him to the laundry room. "How's that? Making progress?"

"A lot!" Genos nodded. "We have color stories for all the decorations, and the sleigh, and most of the presents if we get to that. And I have a pattern for the suit ready, but the fabric is pretty thick so there's a good chance I'll have to redo it."

Garou grinned, showing off his canines. "I meant, are you making progress _with Saitama_?"

"Oh." They'd made it to the laundry room, so Genos showed Garou where to put the used scrap and moved some things into the dryer. Definitely not avoiding the question, just getting to work on neglected chores.

Of course, Garou wouldn't let it be that simple. "You didn't answer me."

"It would be none of your business," Genos said. "Even if I was."

He snorted. "So that's a hard no."

"I don't know." Genos slumped against the industrial sized washer. "He likes me? I think. But it's always all about work. Maybe... maybe he's just not interested at all?"

"Maybe. Is that common for zombies?"

"Saitama's a revenant, not a zombie," Genos corrected.

"What's the difference? You're all dead."

"Zombies are rotten," Genos said. "And easier to kill permanently. All you do is destroy the brain."

"Poor zombies!"

"Yeah but they and vampires are the only undead who can spread their condition."

"Werewolves can!" Garou pointed out. "Some of us were born this way, but mostly no."

"You're not undead."

"Oh right. No." He scratched his cheek. "So what's special about revenants?"

"Nothing, really. You have to destroy their whole body to kill them, but mostly they're average in everything."

"Hm. Is that what you are, then?"

"No, I'm my own thing. But that's not that strange, there are plenty of rare types of undead. Like headless horsemen, or the weirder kinds of vampires."

"You know a lot about this."

"You should too! You're going to have to decide what to come back as, some day."

"That's a _lifetime_ from now." Garou rolled his eyes.

"Hopefully! But who knows." Genos looked down at his hands, at the thick stitches on his wrists. "It looks like I was only barely an adult when I died. Around your age."

"You still don't know anything about that, do you."

"I don't care," Genos said, truthfully. No one seemed to believe him, no matter how many times he said it. "It doesn't matter. I'm... I'm me."

 

* * *

 

It was time for the first fitting of Saitama's new suit, his Santa Claus outfit, as both Genos and Saitama had learned it was pronounced. Though Genos had worked from the tailor's measurements, he'd only pinned the fabric together for now, in case it was catastrophically inaccurate.

The prospect of putting his hands near Saitama's bare skin was so overwhelming that Genos had to psych himself up to even leave his room. Though he hadn't in a while, today Genos took care with his clothes, artfully tousled his hair, and (on a crazed whim) found a tiny sprig of mistletoe and tied it in with silver thread.

The chaos in Saitama's house was becoming more and more organized, with Genos' help. He entered without waiting for Saitama to open the door, having come often enough now that a shouted "Come in!" was enough invitation. Today Saitama had ditched dressing gowns entirely and was wearing a thin white undershirt and gray trousers that clung to his hips and thighs.

Compared to him Genos felt overdressed, but Saitama wasn't the type to notice. When he saw Genos all he said was, "Is this okay? Should I take my pants off?"

Genos sucked in a breath. "No, not... not necessary. Not yet."

He sent Saitama to find a stool or something low to stand on, and unpacked the red suit on a mostly empty table. He had a few of Saitama's books to return as well, including the one on global Christmas traditions, and laid them out neatly.

Saitama returned with a little step stool. "What do I do? Stand here while you dress me?"

"I'll need a little more help than that," Genos laughed. He held out the coat. "This first. Put it on like you would normally." Saitama took it, pulling too hard and knocking the pins out of one sleeve. "But... be gentle."

"Oh, oops. Is it okay?"

"Yes, I can fix it." Saitama did end up just standing there for a while as Genos moved pins and made marks with chalk. The coat was too big, sleeves too long, hem around Saitama's knees instead of mid-thigh like Genos intended.

"You're not _that_ much taller than me," Saitama joked. Genos ignored it, making notes and measurements. "It's fine though! It'll be cold in most of the places I'm going. This will keep me warmer."

"It's _not_ fine," Genos muttered. He jerked in surprise when Saitama put a hand on his shoulder.

"It is though! A little big isn't bad. I like my clothes loose."

What he was wearing now told a different story. "You'll be climbing in and out of sleds and chimneys. You don't want excess fabric in the way."

"Oh..."

Genos slipped out from under his hand and picked up the trousers. "Let's try these. You'll need to, um..."

He couldn't bring himself to say it, but Saitama did for him. "Strip?"

"Um. Just your pants."

Saitama shrugged and promptly dropped them, revealing striped boxers with a y-shaped slit in the front. Trying not to think about the single thin layer of fabric covering the most intimate parts his body, Genos handed over the trousers.

"Do I need to be gentle?" Saitama was grinning.

"Um. Yes."

Watching Saitama shimmy into something Genos had made was almost torture. He would have looked away if he was at all under control of what his eyes were doing right now.

Unfortunately these were too big as well, hanging off Saitama's hips and leaving almost an inch of underwear visible. Genos sighed and took a handful of pins and his chalk pencil to get to work marking corrections.

"I'm going to be wearing a belt," Saitama said, slipping his thumbs through the loops Genos had loosely stitched on.

"It wouldn't _look_ good though."

"It'll be covered by the coat."

"Fixing this won't take long." Genos bent over to mark the start of Saitama's inseam. He was so caught up in his work that he didn't realize where his hands had been until he was turning around to write it down. When he looked back, Saitama's eyes were blazing brighter and redder than Genos had ever seen. "I- I should have warned you. Sorry."

"S'okay," Saitama said, voice strangled. He coughed, trying to cover it. "Uh. So. I mean. Too big is better than too small, right?"

"Right," Genos agreed, feeling like he was watching this conversation from a distance. "Um. So. That's really... Oh no I need to check the cuffs."

"Oh, okay."

Bending down at Saitama's feet wasn't a fantasy Genos had before (though he could certainly see the appeal), so once he was done with that part he felt a little calmer. Saitama was too, and especially after he got his pants back on.

Was Genos reading too far into things? Did Saitama really feel something? Or was he just embarrassed? The way he looked at Genos, the way he was looking right now, was so hot Genos was almost afraid he'd be burned.

"That's all I needed," Genos said. And then some. "I'll just... be on my way." He turned back to his sewing basket, but Saitama caught his wrist, tight.

"Wait."

His grip was strong, firm, and if it hadn't been right on the weak point it would have been fine. They both felt stitches pop beneath Saitama's fingers.

"Ah-" Genos' hand came loose, dropped, trailing string. For a split second he saw it suspended in the air, then Saitama caught it before it hit the floor.

"Sorry!" He said quickly. "I'm really sorry. Be gentle, right?"

"R- right." Genos watched Saitama hold his hand, truly detached from the moment. Their fingers intertwined, but Genos couldn't feel a thing.

"I didn't realize you were so, um, delicate."

"Fragile," Genos corrected. " _Weak_."

"No!" Genos saw Saitama tighten his grip on Genos' hand, saw his knuckles flex, and then saw his brows crease in concern. "Is this... Do you..." He prodded Genos' unmoving thumb. "Can you not control your parts if they're detached?"

"No."

"But then..." Shocked realization faded his eye lights to cold white. "If- if you got torn up, you'd be helpless."

"Yes."

Saitama held out his hand, and Genos took it. Any heat there had been in the room was gone.

"I'm sorry. I'm so _so_ sorry." Saitama twisted his own fingers together, and added, "I never want to hurt you."

"It doesn't _hurt_ ," Genos assured. "You've done it before. My shoulder, once, and my back..."

Saitama looked disgusted with himself. "I'm so sorry."

"It's fine! I can fix it."

Genos set his hand down to use his remaining one and wrist to move the Santa coat off his basket. He dug around until he found some twine and his needles folded neatly in a pouch. A ball of yarn disturbed the stack of books he was returning, and the first couple started to slide off. Saitama caught them as easily as he had Genos' hand.

"You finished these?"

"Oh, yes."

Saitama traced his fingers over the global traditions one. "You... read this whole book?"

"Yes?" It really wasn't _that_ long, and Genos had it for over two weeks.

"Then you know? What the mistletoe means?"

"Oh." Genos had forgotten, despite his effort to make it look nice, that he'd put some in his hair. "Yes... I know."

"And you wore it anyway?"

"I wore it on _purpose_."

Saitama was very close, books in one arm, eyes going from yellow to orange and fixing themselves on Genos' mouth. Genos set the twine aside as Saitama took a step closer, free hand reaching out to brush Genos' cheek.

He tilted his head into it, closed his eyes. They were so close he could feel Saitama's breath.

"I never want to hurt you," he murmured, a hair's breadth from Genos' lips.

And then Saitama pulled away, several steps back, leaving Genos cold without his body heat.

"Saitama-"

"Do you need to fix your hand before you go?" Saitama wrapped his arms around himself, turning away.

"N- no." Genos didn't want to stay here a moment longer, not faced with this. "I can do it at home."

"Okay." He bent and picked up the step stool. "I think I'll be working from town hall from now on. So if you need me you can find me there."

"Okay..." Genos dropped the rest of his things, body parts included, in his basket and hooked it on his handless forearm. "I'll... see you later. I guess."

Saitama was already halfway out the room. "Yep. Bye."

 

On the way home, Genos ripped the mistletoe from his hair and threw it onto the ground. Green leaves and white berries, decorated with silver thread and a few strands of his own golden hair. It looked very festive. Very Christmasy.

He stepped on it for good measure.

When he got back to the lab he found Kuseno tending to eight skeletal deer, a few of them milling about in confusion on the ceiling, one of them accepting head-scratches with every appearance of enjoyment.

“Genos, good news for Saitama next time you see him.” Kuseno took some dried roots out of his pocket, letting the deer munch on them. “Seems the transfer was a complete success. I'll keep the deer inside for a while until they get used to their new abilities, but-”

Genos dropped his basket on one of the lab tables, hard enough to rattle the instruments. “Change of plans. Christmas can go to hell.”

Kuseno blinked. “Change of plans or change of heart?”

“Does it matter?” He took his hand out of the basket and saw Kuseno's face grow cold. Dangerous. The mad side of mad science could be very angry indeed.

“What did he do to you?”

“Nothing,” Genos said quickly. “That's the _problem_.”

“What do you want to do now, then?”

“I'm not going along with his plans to make him like me any more. This is wrong and I knew it from the start. Christmas _isn't_ ours.” Genos held his functioning hand out to one of the deer, and it immediately came sniffing for treats. “If we work against him outwardly, the town will turn against us. But he's relying on you for transportation.”

Kuseno looked wistfully at the rigging for the sled. “I see. Sabotage then.”

“Sabotage.” The deer started nibbling at Genos' sleeve. “How well can these guys see?”

“Not well. I couldn't preserve the eyes. They have other senses, but Saitama will have to rely on his own vision for guidance.”

“His vision seems pretty standard.” Genos resisted the urge to make a reference to not seeing what a good thing he was missing. “What can we do about that?”

 

* * *

 

It was about four years ago that Saitama had caught a glimpse of something bright in the crowd at a planning meeting. They were doing a mechanical theme, gears and rust and chainsaws, and the mad scientist Dr. Kuseno was providing a lot of good ideas. Saitama, though he'd gotten some attention when he pulled off a single-man scare of a whole big group of humans, wasn't being consulted much.

He wasn't trying to contribute much either. There didn't seem to be a point. He just did what he always did, and he did it _well_ , and if he still got a kick out of it... that was all he needed.

Along with Dr. Kuseno was a person like a young man, stitched together from a corpse, dressed in a patchwork shirt of colorful fabrics. It didn't _match_ , but it didn't look like anything else in the town. The young man stood out. He was _different_.

That Halloween, inspired by the patchwork boy, Saitama pretended to be caught in a farm thresher. When the horrified witnesses came to check on him, he would allow his ripped-off parts to twitch and squirm, and the humans would inevitably run off in fear. Their screams giving him enough energy to pull himself together in time for the next group.

He was crowned Pumpkin King. The King of Halloween. For the first time, everyone noticed how good he was at what he did. And it felt _amazing_... for about a week.

But it didn't change anything. No one knew him, no one cared to. He did manage to gain a couple of friends in the next year, but mostly it was just work work work. Soon Saitama was practically running the Halloween prep by himself; no one _else_ was going to put actual effort in.

The young man, who'd gotten much better at combining colors and patterns to coordinate and compliment his already stunning looks, came to most of the town meetings. He never spoke up, he never offered ideas, he voted (via hand-raising) the way Saitama leaned. Saitama saw him speaking to others, the Hanging Tree and some werewolves, but he seemed to just be a normal citizen. Interested in the town occupation but with no particular strong opinions.

Once, a year ago, Mumen the Headless Rider came to help Saitama with a presentation, and as casually as he could Saitama asked, “Do you know that guy? The blond one?”

“Which?” Mumen held his head out so he could peer around the curtains. “In the garish top?”

“It's not garish,” Saitama protested. “It's _bold_.”

When Mumen reattached his head, it was grinning.

“What?”

“You like him.”

Saitama sputtered. “I don't even know him! I don't know his name, or- or- I think Kuseno made him? Do you know?”

Mumen kept right on grinning.

“Oh what does it matter? You saw him, he's out of my league.”

“You're the _Pumpkin King_. You're a league of your own.”

Despite Saitama's attempts to stop him, Mumen asked around. It turned out the boy was named Genos, he was a revenant, and a rare type. He hadn't chosen to get back up after he died, Kuseno revived the body with science. Something like a flesh golem.

Even with that information, Saitama never tried to talk to him. Why bother? If he was interested in Saitama he would say something. Try to get his attention at meetings. A guy who looked like _that_ could have anyone... so if he didn't look twice at Saitama, Saitama must not be worth looking at.

 

And then one day, after being reinvigorated by discovering Christmas, Saitama looked down from his window and saw Genos standing on his doorstep. He invited him in, they talked, they... connected. For a few weeks everything went as well as it possibly could have.

Until Saitama ripped his hand off. Until Saitama learned he'd torn him apart multiple times and not even noticed. Genos was sweet and clever and beautiful. Saitama was none of those things. It was better if he stepped back, put distance between them, let Genos realize he could do better.

It was for the best.

Saitama still had Christmas. Or at least he _would_ , in another week. He would have something new, something that made him feel good. Genos had... but Christmas would do just as well.

Right?

 

* * *

 

When Genos arrived at the town hall for the next fitting, he found Saitama arguing with a child. Hardly surprising given what Genos now knew about his personality.

"No, listen, it's kind of pointy and shiny, like-" Saitama picked up a cookie, "like this, see?"

"The door I went through was colorful, like you said."

“Bold color, not pastel!”

"There's lots of colors though!"

"An egg looks nothing like a fir tree!"

The child, Genos recognized him from around town but didn't know his name, huffed and pushed back his robot helmet. "Well what do you want from me?"

"I want you to _fix_ your mistake, and then do the job you said you going to!"

The boy fiddled with a remote control, and the metal exam table next to him, quivering body bag strapped to the top, began walking toward the door. Genos squeezed to the side to let it pass and heard whatever was inside the bag gibbering in fear. The boy was grumbling as he followed it, though he stopped as he passed Genos, giving him a brief nod.

Ah, that was where Genos knew him from. The boy had been Bofoy's assistant for a while. He was still too young to know if he would become a mad scientist, but Kuseno had told Genos to be friendly to him. Rivalries in the science world could turn ugly fast.

"Genos."

In two syllables it was clear that Saitama hadn't forgotten what happened between them last time. The tension in the air was thick as congealed blood.

"Saitama." Genos lifted his basket in two hands, as if the piles of red velvet would protect him from awkwardness. "This shouldn't take long."

"Okay, uh." He jerked his head toward backstage. "Lets do it. Get it done, I mean."

His eyes were so dim that even in the gloom of offstage Genos could barely see an orange smoulder. Genos knew Saitama thought he had done the right thing rejecting Genos, was _protecting_ him, but Genos still chafed at the way Saitama avoided his gaze.

While Saitama, gently, put on the altered clothes, Genos felt the need to break the echoing silence.

"Who was that you were talking to?"

"Who?" Saitama blinked, making his eyes flicker.

"That trick-or-treater. I've met him, but I forgot his name. He's doing a job for you?"

"Oh, Dotei!" Saitama finished dressing and held his arms out for Genos to check. "Yeah, well, there's a lot to do. And he's pretty resourceful."

"You know he used to work for Bofoy?" Genos tugged at fabric here and there, but it looked like he was ready to start sewing.

"I know." Saitama looked down at where Genos was adjusting his belt. "And I know Bofoy isn't a good fit for this project. I'm not stupid."

Genos ignored that easy opening. “How does it feel? Be honest.”

Saitama paused for a moment too long. “Oh, the clothes. Uh... good? Fine.”

“It looks okay to me.” He straightened up. “It will take me some time to sew; this is very thick fabric.”

“But it'll be done in time for Christmas Eve, right?”

Genos nodded. He'd considered lying, but if he did Saitama would just find someone else, or go without. It wouldn't stop him.

“Okay.” Saitama started stripping, removing a few pins from his skin as he did. It must have hurt, but he didn't say a word. “You'll let me know if you need to do another fitting, right?”

Genos folded up the fabric as it was handed to him. “Yes.”

“Okay, well... See you around, then.”

“Yes.”

Genos didn't look back as he walked away. Looking back would be weak... but he didn't need to. He could feel the heat of Saitama's glowing gaze on his back.

 

* * *

 

The next week was busy for everyone. Unlike the week before Halloween, which was mostly rehearsals and last-minute adjustments, this was a sprint to get things done in time. Every time Genos went out he saw townsfolk whipped into a panic working on presents or decorations or performances.

It wasn't like he wasn't in the same boat. He wasn't used to working with fur, he didn't have anyone to ask, and he spent his small amount of free time helping Dr. Kuseno in the lab. The skeletal deer were doing well, but the propulsion of the sleigh needed to be human-world-proof.

And then there was their secret project. Kuseno's specialty was genetics, not chemistry, or engineering for that matter. But he'd dabbled in everything, so it wasn't _beyond_ him, just not as fast as it could be.

Seven days passed like a blur.

 

The evening of December 23rd most of the townsfolk gathered in the square, just like Halloween. There was a musical performance and a speech from the mayor, just like Halloween.

Saitama looked nervous throughout, glancing around as if looking for someone. He was wearing cheery red fur with pure white at the collar and cuffs, the result of Genos' hard work. It didn't suit him. He was so milky pale that the red made him look sick, and not in an attractive way. A richer shade would have done much better, but Genos hadn't thought of it before things went south between them.

Then, moments before Saitama was due to take off, Dotei shoved through the crowd. He had his exam table following him, a body bag squirming on top just like last week, only far more energetic.

"I got him!" Dotei exclaimed gleefully. "I got him, just like I said."

"You cut it close," Saitama sighed. "But good job, thank you. Did you get the goods too?"

"No, I couldn't," Dotei looked down at his feet. He was dressed for Christmas, in red and green, with striped pants and bells on his toes. The colors were _perfect_. "His henchmen loaded everything up."

"That's okay, you did your best." Saitama ruffled his hair, then reached for the bag.

With the whole town watching, Saitama unzipped the body bag revealing a very much alive man, struggling against bonds made of electrical tape.

"Mr. Claus!" Saitama greeted him. "Welcome to Halloween Town! I do apologize for the rough treatment, but we didn't have time to explain."

The man glared at Saitama with coal-black eyes. He was _furious_ , even Genos could see from halfway back in the crowd, and large enough that Genos wondered if he could have fought his way through them. The undead citizens of Halloween were far stronger than the mortal ones, but it looked as though this man wasn't quite human himself. His ears were pointed, sticking through his short white hair and long white beard, and he was taller than most humans. His body was round, but his shoulders were broad, and the tape holding his wrists together was already stretched to its limit.

In what Genos thought was perhaps a bad move, Saitama ripped the tape off Santa Claus' mouth.

"You're making a mistake," Claus said, his voice calm, very deep, and tense with rage. "This won't end well for you, Jack."

Saitama smiled. "We'll see! Ah, I forgot. You don't mind if I borrow- Well, you don't have a choice." He snatched the hat from Claus' head and placed it on his own bare scalp. The darker red looked fantastic on him. "Dotei, can I trust you to take care of him? Hold him somewhere secure until I get back."

"Of course," Dotei said, beaming with pride. He snapped his fingers and the body bag zipped itself up, forcing Claus to lay down or get his beard trapped.

Genos felt ill. It wasn't that he didn't know this was part of Saitama's plan, but seeing it in person only made him more sure of what he was about to do.

Now was the perfect time. Everyone was focused on Saitama mounting the hastily-erected platform that held his sleigh, no one was looking back at the fountain in the center of the square. The crowd had edged up against it, it wasn't strange at all for Genos to take a seat on the rim.

Quickly, nonchalantly, Genos dumped a jug into the swirling water of the fountain.

"Thank you," he heard Saitama say. "Thank you all. I promise you, for better or for worse," he chuckled, and Genos didn't like it, "this night will go down in history."

The clock on the town hall began to bong midnight. Fog began to swell out of the water and creep along the ground.

"Don't forget us when you become the ruler of a second holiday," the mayor said. "After all, this will always be your home."

Saitama smiled, tightly. The fog had risen to people's shoulders. "How could I forget everyone here? I couldn't have done it without you all. But you're forgetting, mayor, I don't have a home. I'm-"

He stopped. From the back of the audience, Genos could only barely see his eyes glowing.

"What is this? The fog came on so suddenly."

"A bit early, isn't it?" The mayor laughed. "You're right of course, Saitama, I forgot you're a wandering soul. My apologies."

"No hang on, I'm serious, this is bad."

Genos began to sneak back toward home.

"I don't think I can take off if I can't see."

" _What_?" The mayor exclaimed. "But- but all our work! History!"

"I don't know. I don't know what to..." Saitama's voice was breaking, along with Genos' heart. Saitama had wanted this so badly, had wanted to _feel_ something... Someday, maybe, he'd understand this was for the best. Maybe Claus could talk some sense into him, if he had a chance.

"Isn't there something to light the way? A lantern, we can rig one of the spotlights from the town hall."

"Maybe," Saitama agreed. "Is Dr. Kuseno here, he could- Oh!"

"What?"

"Of course, a lantern. What else am I good for?"

Genos looked back. The fog was hovering higher now, so Genos could see Saitama pick up an unlit Jack o' Lantern and stare into its carved face. The lights in his eyes disappeared, at the same moment as the Jack o' Lantern blazed to life. Slightly wobbly, he mounted the pumpkin on the front of the sleigh, and then climbed into the driver's seat.

"What _is_ a wandering soul?" Genos said aloud. No one noticed him as they watched the sleigh take off. Genos felt like the only person in town who wasn't cheering.

He made his way back home with his head hanging. After all that, all the planning and brewing, it had only made a difference of a few minutes. Sure it was a simple idea, but it was the best one they'd come up with. How was Genos to know Saitama could transfer his eyes like that?

Now it was over, Saitama was on his way to the human world, and who could stop him? He'd explained to Genos once how to find portals back to Halloween Town, but not how to find them from this side. Who would be able to go after him, and be on Genos' side? Maybe Kuseno? Genos still didn't know if he'd ever been there.

Bells were jingling up ahead, along with clattering metal on cobblestone. Genos peered through the fog and saw the robotic exam table pass through the wrought iron gate to the outskirts of town. The lake was out there, along with the master vampire's manor house, and Bofoy's awful lab. Why would Dotei be taking Claus out-

 _Claus_. Now _there_ was someone who could help. But Dotei had been so proud when Saitama trusted him, and Genos couldn't overpower even a child. All he could do was follow them and hope Dotei left Claus alone before Saitama did something irreversible.

Thankful for the fog and his light tread, Genos followed Dotei and the table. Despite knowing there were only two houses out here, Genos was somehow still surprised when Dotei turned up the narrow driveway to Bofoy's lab.

A true master of the craft, the building was a block of concrete stained with rust from the iron bars on the windows. There were shallow graves visible on the hill, all the more obvious from the way the grass refused to grow on top of them. A trickle of something that glowed faintly fell from a wide pipe on the side of the lab.

Genos made for that. He'd never be able to waltz in the front door, especially when he heard Dotei get buzzed in. There was another set of bars here, but they were wide, and Genos could compress his body enough to squeeze through.

He crept through empty hallways, dodging security cameras shaped like red eyes, going to the basement where he knew the worst experiments would be conducted. An evil scientist like Bofoy wouldn't be able to resist cutting up a living symbol of a holiday the size of Christmas.

It was gratifying to hear raised voices as Genos got closer to the lab. Dotei, frantic, trying to get Bofoy to change his mind.

"This wasn't the deal!" he exclaimed. "Sandy Claws still needs to go back home once the Pumpkin King is done!"

"Perhaps he will." Genos had never heard Bofoy speak before. The man was connected to so many machines that he'd been expecting something more robotic, but this was perfectly human, if tinged with mad glee. "That depends entirely on him. Doesn't it, Mr. Claus."

"You can't touch me," Claus said, calmly. "If you're smart, you'll let me go."

Genos heard a crunch of metal. "I'm a _genius_!"

"I'm Father Christmas."

Bofoy's reply was a snarl, more animal than human.

Genos had reached the hospital-style double doors to the lab, and cautiously peered through the window. There was Dotei, very close to the doors, ready to run if he had to. There was Claus, strapped to a far more secure table by more straps than seemed strictly necessary.

And there was Bofoy, sitting in, or perhaps a part of, a saucer-shaped device connected by robotic arms to the ceiling. As he spoke, the chair moved freely around the lab, and he grabbed various tools where they were hanging, either with his human arms or the many spiderlike ones emerging from his back. Half his face was covered with, or just _was_ , metal and multiple lenses to slot over the red lens of his eye.

He turned back to Claus. "Now, let's see what makes you tick. After, of course, I secure our _other_ guest."

Robotic arms, some ending in hands, some claws, some clamps, reached down from the ceiling. A split second too late Genos realized he was in trouble, and then the arms were through the doors and reaching for him. One claw ripped through his left arm, Genos let it go and ran three steps before a massive clamp crushed his leg. He pulled that off too, but he could only hop. Then a massive metal hand grabbed him around the waist, sharp edges tearing into his flesh, and dragged him back to the lab.

"Wait!" Dotei exclaimed. "Doctor, that's Kuseno's creature!"

"Oh I know what this is." The arm lifted Genos up to Bofoy's eye level. He smiled, icy cold. "More or less. I wonder, where did Kuseno get a body to revive? No one in Halloween Town would have left a body behind."

"Let Santa Claus go," Genos blurted. A couple lenses dropped over Bofoy's red eye, magnifying it. "Let him go, doctor. I'll submit to your experiments, I'll tell you whatever you want. But Claus has to save Sai- Christmas."

"So noble! You really aren't from this town." The arm moved Genos across the lab and dropped him into a cage. "Why would I let anyone go when I have two subjects I've been very interested in?"

Genos could barely lift himself up to watch, and he wasn't sure if he wanted to. Bofoy lowered himself over the exam table, large scissors poised to cut off Claus' clothes, when the lights flickered. He glanced upward, frowned, and turned back to it when half of them went dark.

"What?"

The other half followed, then green emergency lights, and then those were gone too.

"The boy!" Genos heard Bofoy snarl.

A second set of emergency lights, red and barely enough to see by, stuttered to life. Sure enough, Dotei was gone, and Bofoy flung his tools to the floor in rage. One of the clawed arms ripped through Claus' restraints and picked him up, dropping him next to Genos in the cage.

"I'll deal with him shortly," Bofoy said, "Then you-"

For a moment Genos thought an alarm had gone off in the lab, until he recognized the town's emergency siren. Bofoy stopped and listened, the mayor's voice faint from all the way out here, though it would be broadcasting as loud as possible if it was truly an emergency.

"-shot from the sky! The King of Halloween is dead, the humans blew him to smithereens! Saitama the Pumpkin King, who only-"

"No!" Genos wailed. Suddenly everything else, the danger he was in, that damned holiday of Christmas, even the badly hurt man next to him in the cage, didn't matter.

All this time he'd known it was a bad idea. Holidays couldn't mix, couldn't combine. What was thrilling on Halloween was terrifying and sinister on Christmas. Genos had known, but he'd never thought...

To kill a revenant you had to destroy their entire body. Genos was slumped on the cold metal floor of a cage with two limbs missing and his torso torn, but he was fine. Or at least, he would be with some thread and time. "Blown to smithereens" sounded very final.

Saitama was gone. His foolish obsession had killed him. And Genos had _helped_ him, had only tried to stop him when Saitama rejected him. If he'd known- if he'd thought-

Tears had blurred Genos' vision, but he could see red. Deep red, even in the red emergency lights. Large warm arms gathered him up, held him gently but tightly, and Genos turned his face into a furry shoulder.

"I'm sorry, son," Claus said. "You cared for him."

Genos sobbed, clinging to Claus with his remaining arm. "Wuh-hy was he so st- stupid?"

"I'm sure he never thought the humans would turn on him. I'm surprised as well. If I'd thought it would turn out like this, I would have tried harder." Claus sighed, rubbing Genos' back like a father for his child. "I never foresaw this _at all_. Kidnapping me? Taking over someone else's holiday? Why would he go so far?"

"He- he doesn't feel anything." Genos shook his head. "No, it's- it's that it's easy for him. Halloween. It doesn't make him happy. Nothing d- does."

"Maybe he did know," Claus said quietly. "Maybe he considered this possibility, and... didn't mind it."

Genos nodded. "But I wish I- I-"

"I know. I wish I could have stopped him as well. I'm sorry, Genos."

Somewhat under control now, Genos leaned back. "How do you know my name?"

Claus gave him a look Genos couldn't read. "I know everyone's name."

"Oh." Genos braced his hand against the floor and struggled into a lopsided sitting position. "We should. We need to get out of here."

"I quite agree," Claus said. He was sitting crosslegged, the same air of calm he'd had all along.

"You're not hurt?"

"I told that... person he wouldn't be able to do anything to me. I'm Father Christmas."

"Oh." Genos tried to wipe his eyes and toppled over, Claus catching him before he hit the floor.

"You're hurt, though."

"Damaged," Genos corrected. "It doesn't hurt. But I wish I could move my limbs when they weren't attached." Genos clenched his only fist. "I wish I didn't tear so easily. I wish I wasn't _weak_."

Another inscrutable look. "Should you be able to? Move your parts?"

"Yes, other revenants -- raised dead -- can. I'm- I'm different. I don't know why, but-"

"You were made by a Halloween scientist, correct?" Claus said.

"I- Yes. Dr. Kuseno. He did his best, but..."

"No I see, I know the problem." Claus smiled, for the first time that Genos had seen. It was broad, and kind, and made Genos feel warm. "What _you_ need is a little Christmas magic."

Genos blinked. " _Magic_? But I'm a creation of _science_."

"I know what I'm about, son." Claus reached into his wide sleeve and pulled out a spool of thread that glinted metallic in the light. "Silver thread. Real silver, mind."

"Why do you have-"

"I make toys, of course I can sew. Raise your arm please?"

Claus took off Genos' shirt and, with almost supernatural speed, stitched up the ripped portions of Genos' body. Instantly Genos felt more stable, and was able to sit up easily.

"Thank you, Mr. Claus."

"While I'm at it, why don't I replace everything?"

"There isn't really time."

"You're right." He let go of the needle and thread. They hovered in the air, before darting at Genos like a very thin silver snake. "Of course, I do travel around the globe in a single night. So I think it's more accurate to say we have all the time in the world."

In a few seconds he saw the black cord and rough twine and red yarn he'd used to repair himself fall to the floor, and spiderweb-thin glittering thread crisscrossing his seams. Genos flexed his fingers as hard as he could, but they didn't snap. Didn't even strain.

"I- I feel _strong_."

"One last thing." Claus tucked the thread away and withdrew a small plastic gun with a sharp point at the end. "What's holding your ears on? Staples? We can do better than that."

"What do you mean?"

"What's your favorite color?"

"All," Genos said without hesitation.

Claus smiled. "That's my boy."

He ripped out the staples with his fingers and reattached Genos' ears with three quick jabs from the gun. Not only did they feel more secure, but Genos could hear better. He could hear the metal legs of Bofoy's spider chair three stories up, hear the alarm still blaring in town, hear metal smashing somewhere.

"I- I feel _amazing_. Thank you Mr. Claus!"

He smiled again. "Call me Santa, please. It still needs one last thing to set, but I don't believe that will be hard to come by. Now can you do something for me?"

"Of course!"

"See if you can move your arm back in the hall. If I'm right, you'll still work by the laws of this town."

Genos wasn't sure what he meant, but he looked down at his hand and concentrated on the other one. "I... I think I can feel it." The floor in the hall was linoleum, slick.

"Can you crawl it back this way?"

"I think so."

He could, passing over his leg where it had propped the door open. Being able to see made things easier, and so did Genos' idea to copy what he'd seen other revenants do and use his fingers as legs to "run" with his hand.

The arm reattached with no effort at all, the silver thread reaching out of its own volition to stitch his skin back together. Rearmed, Genos turned to Santa.

"But we're still in this cage."

"A cage without a roof. Now that you have both arms, I can boost you up and you can lift me up."

Genos opened his mouth to say he couldn't lift anyone, much less a man as large as Santa, but... He felt strong now. Very strong. Unbreakable.

"Okay."

It went just as well as Santa said. Genos had to hook his leg through the bars to keep from overbalancing, but Santa's weight wasn't a problem at all. Genos lifted him as easily as... as... nothing he'd ever lifted before.

His leg too sewed itself back on, and though he'd forgotten his shirt and only had one pant leg, Genos felt as confident as he ever had in his short afterlife.

"Let's go!" he said, a second before his improved hearing caught clattering metal spider legs coming their way. " _Quickly_."

They ran, Santa keeping pace with Genos' silver-strengthened legs despite his size. The spider-steps got louder, but there was no other way to go. Once they reached the cross hall up ahead Genos could lead them back to the waste pipe, but they'd have to be fast enough-

In the entrance to the cross hall, Bofoy stood, outlined in red light. "You!" he growled. Genos froze, but Bofoy wasn't looking in their direction. "You're supposed to be _dead_!"

"I am!" Saitama's voice said. "And _you_ will be too if you don't tell me where Genos and Claus are!"

Genos wanted to shout, but he couldn't move. Only a short while ago he'd thought Saitama was gone forever and now he was raiding the lab to _save_ him. He almost couldn't believe it, until he saw Bofoy strike out with one of the spider legs, and Saitama snapped it off and swung it like a bat to break two more.

"Where are they?" Saitama demanded.

"Here!" Genos exclaimed. Saitama turned toward them, and Genos saw his shoulders sag in relief.

"No! You cannot take my research subjects!" Bofoy managed to get his chair upright, and Saitama kicked it over. The chair teetered but remained on its feet, until Saitama ripped off another, leaving it completely lopsided. His back-mounted legs managed to brace him against the wall, but Saitama, with terrifying strength, tipped the chair on its edge and sent it rolling off down the hall.

They heard a loud crash, but no one had any doubt that would take Bofoy out for good. If he was truly smart, he would know he was beaten for now and regroup.

Saitama turned slowly and reached out a hand to Genos. He found himself running toward Saitama and grabbing him, picking him up and spinning around.

Saitama laughed. "You- What's this about?"

"I thought you were _dead_!"

"Not this time." It was the most genuine smile Genos had ever seen on him. "And I'm glad. Does this mean you forgive me for being stupid?"

"How could I _not_?"

Saitama kissed him, briefly, but it made Genos tingle from head to toe. When Genos set him down, Saitama put his hands on his arms, stepping back to look at him.

"What happened to you? I didn't think you could pick me up like that. And you _look_ different, you look... brighter."

"Santa fixed me!" Genos looked back at him, where he was standing and waiting with a faint smile.

"That's set it then."

"Set what?" Genos asked.

"Your repairs. What do you think powers Christmas magic?" Santa patted Genos' shoulder as he walked by. "It's love."

 

They walked out of Bofoy's building without any trouble from the security system. He'd been smart, or just slow, but he wouldn't seek revenge when he'd be making an enemy of the whole town by doing so.

Dotei was waiting for them a safe distance down the hill. He explained he'd not only turned off the power, but he'd stumbled onto Saitama on his way back and told him what Bofoy was up to.

"I'm sorry," Dotei said. "I brought him here because I knew Sandy Claws could escape from anywhere I'd put him. He's a magical home invader!"

"That's not completely inaccurate," Santa admitted. He fished a peppermint from his sleeve, and Dotei took it. "I'm afraid what you did was still very naughty, however. I think it would be best if you went home and stayed out of trouble."

Dotei nodded and shoved the candy his his mouth. "Fank oo Sandy."

Santa sighed as he watched the boy run off. "Why do your townsfolk mispronounce my name?"

"My fault," Saitama said. "I mean, this is _all_ my fault. But I misheard it the first time I stumbled on your town."

“Hm. And how did you do that, exactly?”

Saitama waved toward the woods, bare branches reaching up like pointed fingers at the clear sky. “There's a grove of trees in the woods with different symbols. Your tree was... interesting.”

“A portal grove. That would be the quickest way back, then.”

Saitama hesitated. “Mr. Claus, can you... fix all this? I didn't realize people would be so...”

“They expect happiness, gifts, and good feelings, and you _frightened_ them? They didn't know how far you'd take it, Jack. They thought they were protecting themselves.”

“They shot me out of the sky!” Saitama shoved his hands in his pockets. He was still wearing the burned remains of the red Santa coat, and his fingers stuck out of the holes. “If I wasn't in Finland, I don't know how I would have gotten back in time to help.”

“What's in Finland?” Genos asked.

“They've got a tradition there, that the spirits of the dead return to sauna in the evening before Christmas. I just came back with some of the ghosts.”

Santa laughed, warm and cheery. “Clever, Jack.”

“You called him Jack,” Genos blurted. “I thought so before, but- You said you knew everyone's name, why are you calling him Jack?”

Saitama and Santa turned to look at Genos, then Santa glanced back at Saitama. “He doesn't know what you are?”

“I guess not. But it's not like I go around announcing it.” Saitama smiled, spreading his hands. “I'm a Jack 'o Lantern.”

“What.”

“Stingy Jack,” Santa added. “It's an old story. A man tricks the devil into promising he'd never be taken to hell. But after living a life full of sin, he's denied entry into heaven as well. Left to wander the mortal realm, forever, with nothing to light his path but a lantern carved from whatever he had on hand.”

“It used to be a turnip,” Saitama said, wistfully.

“Then... then you're not a revenant at all?” Genos asked. “You're a ghost?”

“I suppose,” Saitama agreed. He patted his chest. “This body is just a construction. If it's destroyed, I can always generate a new one.”

“But... then... that's what you meant when you said you were a wandering soul? You- you can't rest?”

“Not eternally,” Saitama said. “It's... hard sometimes. I don't really belong here. I can't belong anywhere.”

“We are all of us slaves to our stories,” Santa said quietly. He pointed at himself. “Father Christmas.” At Saitama. “Stingy Jack.” At Genos. “The Little Match Girl.”

Genos felt his mouth drop open. “I- I'm not a _girl_ ,” was the only objection he could come up with.

“ _What_?” Saitama said. “What are you playing at, old man?”

Santa's smile was inscrutable, but Genos was starting to think it was _sadness_. “You aren't from Halloween Town, Genos. I'm afraid I lied to you when I said I knew everyone's name. Holiday people are exempt from my powers. I know you... because I know you. You were from Christmas Town.”

“What?” Saitama said again. He whipped his head between Santa and Genos. “People can _die_ in Christmas Town?”

“Every couple decades or so a child is left on the doorstep of the workshop. We raise them, we care for them. We love them. It _is_ very useful to have a human child to play with our toys and remind us what we are working for. But... eventually, no matter what we do, one day the child will disappear. They will wander into the woods, in the snow and cold, and freeze to death. We cannot stop this. We have tried.” Santa gestured to Genos. “You were nineteen, the longest we managed to protect one of you.”

Genos felt tears pricking at his eyes. “I don't... I don't... _Why_? Why would such a thing exist? Why would I be born just to die tragically young?”

“Humanity is cruel. They cannot accept a good thing without needing to be reminded of what they might lose. They need to see someone suffering to understand their good fortune.” Santa dipped his head. “I cannot say honestly that I don't resent your creator for taking your body. But I also cannot say I'm not grateful to him. I'm glad you're going on... even in this form.”

Genos looked down at his hands. The silver thread sparkled in the moonlight, and his skin looked different to him now that he could see it clearly. Warmer, pinker, closer to life.

“I must go,” Santa said. “I know you'll have questions, Genos, but I have my duty. I have my story to fulfill. And Saitama...”

“Yes?” he said, cautiously.

“Next time you're interested in someone else's holiday, try _asking_ about it.” He lay a finger next to his nose. “Oh, and you may be dead, but if you hurt my son I'll find a way to make you wish your death was final.”

Saitama gulped.

In a flash of gold Santa was gone. Genos could see a trail of gold sparkles leading off into the woods, but in a moment faded too.

He nearly jumped as something brushed the back of his hand. He looked down and saw Saitama touching it gently with his fingertips.

“You okay?”

“No. I- I don't know. I never cared where I came from. I really didn't. And now...” Genos shook his head. “Are _you_ okay? You lost everything you were working for.”

“It was never mine.” Suddenly Saitama started to laugh. “But you know what? It was _great_. I've never scared anybody so bad they tried to _kill_ me!”

Genos smiled, wiping away the stubborn tears. “Was it worth it?”

“I don't know. I don't think I'd take it back.” Saitama squeezed his hand. “ _Look_ at you.”

“Do I look weird?”

“Not weird. Different. Did you bedazzle your ears?”

“I think Santa did.” Genos turned his head from side to side, letting the gems catch the moonlight. “Do you like it?”

“It's bold. I _love_ it.” Saitama leaned in and they kissed for the second time. His lips were cool, but soft, making Genos want to kiss them again and again. “Your eyes,” Saitama murmured.

“What?”

“They're _gold_.”

They'd been gray before, filmed over from death, like many of the revenants in town.

With visible reluctance, Saitama pulled back. “I should go to town. Everyone thinks I got blown up.”

“You _did_.”

“Yeah but it didn't stick.”

They walked hand-in-hand back to the square. As expected, the townsfolk erupted in cheers. Saitama was snatched away, bells were rung, songs were sung. Even Genos was swept up in it, for once able to take part without worrying about his durability.

But he found himself hanging back anyway, even when Kuseno came to investigate all the noise. Genos ducked into the graveyard before Kuseno could see him. There was a lot to explain, and he wasn't sure if he wanted to yet.

The sky had begun clouding over, and as Genos walked aimlessly he felt the temperature drop even below the normal winter chill. A pinprick of cold hit his bare shoulder, and another on his nose. He looked up to see a small white speck fall directly into his eye.

“Agh!”

The specks were coming fast, falling from the clouds like slow rain. Even though he'd read about it, it wasn't until he made that connection that Genos figured out what this was. _Snow_. It was snowing in Halloween Town.

He could hear the festivities from town. The Christmas songs, the mayor making a speech, Saitama explaining the new weather. Genos kept walking until the sounds were just a hum.

He'd solved a mystery without even trying. He'd been repaired by Santa Claus, like a broken doll. And Saitama had kissed him, twice. Genos had gotten everything he wanted, but...

It wasn't the way he wanted. He didn't _want_ to know where he came from, because he knew it wouldn't be a happy story. A person didn't die so young without leaving behind grief. Genos was _happy_ in Halloween Town, with Kuseno and his friends, people who cared for him. And now he knew there were others, there was a family he'd left behind in Christmas Town. He'd never really fit in here because he still had Christmas tastes and sensibilities. And he would never fit in there again, because he was dead.

Just like Saitama, he didn't belong anywhere.

“Genos?”

Without thinking he'd climbed the hill where he saw Saitama almost two months ago, the night after Halloween, and first learned he was unhappy. Now Saitama was standing below it and looking up at him.

“Saitama.”

“Do you want to be alone?”

“No.”

Saitama's black boots, partly melted, crunched through the snow as he climbed up to join Genos. He shrugged off his red coat and held it out. “What happened to your shirt? Did Bofoy...”

“No, that was when Santa repaired me. It didn't seem important, in the scheme of things.” Genos put the coat on. There were holes, and it smelled like burnt fur, but it was warmer.

“So...”

“So.” Genos reached out his hand, and Saitama took it.

“I've made a lot of mistakes.”

“You're only human.” He snorted. “You _are_ , aren't you? You're actually human.”

“I was. A long time ago.” Saitama shook his head. “But this whole Christmas thing... I really screwed up. Everyone in town will forgive me, because they never understood what I was doing, but...”

“You wanted something new. Something that made you happy.”

“I guess.”

“I saw you up here,” Genos said. “After Halloween. I heard you, you said... it would be nice to feel something.”

Saitama stared at him, eye lights, the light of his soul burning through his sockets, orangey-red.

“I wanted to talk to you then. Maybe I should have. Maybe I could have stopped you.”

“I don't know... maybe.” Saitama squeezed his hand. “But I'm glad you didn't. Because look at you now. You'll be able to- to do anything. You won't have to worry any more.”

“And you?”

“Me?”

“You said it was great. Do you feel better? Do you feel... _anything_?”

“I do,” he nodded. “I mean, I've always... There's been small things. My friends. You. You made me happy. But it's always hardest at Halloween. All that _work_ and no payoff. I should have figured out years ago that if it's making me miserable, I should just quit.”

“Do you really want to?”

“I don't know. I kept hoping and kept failing. I guess it shouldn't be the only thing?” Saitama rubbed his forehead. “I don't _know_. When I found Christmas Town it was so _different_ that I just... wanted it.”

“You can have it.” Genos leaned against him. “We can celebrate, if you want. Why not?”

“Yeah?” Saitama smiled crookedly. “Maybe if I'm good Claus will even bring me a present.”

“I think you'll have to be _very_ good.”

“I can do that.” His smile brightened. “It'll be a challenge!”

 

* * *

 

* * *

 

The child opened her eyes after the third shock. It was one more than the record, but still an improvement over the first few, who had taken multiple storms and needed to be kept on ice in between. As Genos learned, flesh was hard to thaw, and all of them needed to be cut into pieces and carefully soaked in cool water to warm up enough to revive.

She blinked gray-filmed eyes and tried to sit up, but Kuseno and Genos gently held her down. “Hello dear. Good morning.”

“Hello?” she said distantly. She looked to be about ten years old, with copper colored ringlets turned a burnt orange color in death.

“I'm Genos, you're my little sister,” Genos said. Technically older, by about sixty years, but that could wait for later. “Your name is Virginia. We called you Ginny.”

“Oh?” They unstrapped her and let her down off the table. She was looking around in wonder at the lab. “I can't... remember. Why?”

“None of us can, Ginny. It's a shame but it's better than nothing.”

“My name is Kuseno,” the doctor said. “I woke you up, but I'm afraid you'll be very fragile until your other father is able to come and stitch you up. Can you be careful?”

“I think so?”

“Let's go see the others, then.”

Half a dozen children, ranging from seven to early teens, waited in Kuseno's back yard. Most of them were already sparkling with silver and life in their eyes, but a couple were still gray and done up with twine.

“Hi Ginny!” the youngest, Carole, ran up and took her hand. Like Genos, Carole's face had cracked after she died, leaving her with what the humans called a Glasgow Grin. “Let's color!”

“Oh? Okay.” She followed her sister to the table where two of the others waited. Robin, the eldest after Genos, had climbed Kuseno's old dead tree and was watching the storm clouds drift away. Frankincense (some of the elves were better at names than others), was sewing Jin's hand back on. She was the other one who was still fragile, and it looked like she'd gotten a little too aggressive while playing Lightning Tag.

“When's Santa coming?” Jin asked. “I want to be able to run like the others.”

“Soon, dear, soon. You know how busy he is.”

“We planned on this weekend,” Genos said. “But if something blew up in the workshop again we can always go to _him_.”

At the table, Mary sucked a breath between her teeth. “You know how we scare the elves.”

“They'll get used to it,” Genos said firmly. “They'll have to.”

Genos heard the gate creak open, and a moment later Saitama rounded the house with a bouquet of red sunflowers. He waved at Genos, holding out the flowers, a second before the kids saw him and immediately swarmed.

“Saitama are we going to practice today?”

“Saitama my costume is almost done!”

“Saitama what do you like better, dinosaur or _kaiju_?”

“No, awesome, and kaiju,” Saitama answered. “Can I talk to your big brother for a little?”

The kids returned to their places, groaning and making jokes about kissing. Saitama immediately fulfilled the prophesy by kissing Genos as he gave him the bouquet.

“Ewwwww!”

“Yeah yeah.” Saitama laughed. “Grow up.”

“We can't, Saitama! We're dead!”

“I know, and that's great! We're going to scare _so many_ humans this year.”

His plan was pretty ingenious. While to Halloween Town residents Genos' siblings were the very definition of adorable, not even rotting at all, the Christmas Town elves found them creepy and unsettling. Humans would find them absolutely terrifying.

Especially if they wore costumes with masks, joined groups of trick-or-treaters, and when the adults realized they'd picked up an extra kid they took off their masks to reveal a stitched-up face and hollow eyes and frostbitten skin.

Saitama predicted mass screaming and soiled trousers.

“Are you new, miss?” Saitama offered Ginny a gentle handshake. “Nice to meet you. I'm your brother's boyfriend.”

“Nice t'meet you,” Ginny greeted him, shy.

“She just woke up,” Genos said.

“Well I'm very glad. You're in time to come to your brother's wedding!”

“That's not until December,” Genos laughed. “If we continue on this timeframe we should have two more by then! There's lots of storms in summer.”

“How many of you _are_ there?”

“That's all,” Genos said. “Nine.”

“Oh. Is... one there now?”

“Yes, he's still just a baby.” Genos looked out over the yard full of undead children. “We're hoping he can live long enough to be an adult once he's revived. But they'll have a good afterlife. Kuseno will see to that.”

“We all will,” Saitama said, wrapping his arm around Genos' waist. “I'll be part of this family too, in December.”

Genos smiled and kissed his cheek. “This family of dead Christmas children and a mad scientist?”

“And Santa Claus too! And the elves. They still barely talk to me.”

“You did kidnap their boss.”

“I was an _accessory_ to kidnapping their boss.” Saitama hugged him a little tighter. “Can we go somewhere?”

“Sure. Why?”

“No reason. I want to be alone with you.”

Quickly, Genos waved at Kuseno. “We're going out!”

“Okay,” Kuseno waved back, distracted, looking at the blob of red and green Robin had drawn for him. “Lovely! We'll put it on the organ fridge.”

It was midsummer, as warm as it ever got in Halloween Town, which Saitama told him was nothing compared to other holidays, or the human world. Genos still hadn't worked up the courage to go with Saitama on one of his trips, but he liked hearing about it.

They walked hand-in-hand down the street to Saitama's house. With only a couple months to go until Halloween big projects were in full construction, to give plenty of wiggle room in case of mistakes or catastrophes. Genos could see a school bus being gutted in preparation of being filled with zombies. And the witches had taken over the town square to practice casting illusions of spectral twins.

“They really liked this 'spooky kids' theme,” Genos said.

Saitama gave a heavy sigh. “It wasn't supposed to be a theme! I just thought your siblings would be... No,” he said firmly. “It's not my business any more. I'm not Pumpkin King. I'm focusing on my own scares, and your family, and that's all.”

“And if they can't think of anything better next year?”

A muscle in Saitama's cheek twitched. “I will... make suggestions.”

Genos laughed. He knew Saitama couldn't really sit back and let things go, now that he'd had a taste of it. And no one else in town was as good at him at instinctively knowing what scared humans.

After all, no one else but the ghosts had _been_ a human, and the ghosts didn't get involved much.

A few people greeted them as they walked. Everyone had been surprised when Genos and Saitama got engaged. They'd only been together five months, and had an eternity of afterlife ahead of them, but they both knew they wanted this. No, the real surprise was the former Pumpkin King proposing to a nobody like Genos.

Saitama had seen it entirely the other way around. He was stunned Genos had accepted, told him again and again that he could do better.

“Then why did you ask?” Genos had asked.

“Same reason I stole Christmas. I don't deserve you, but I had to try, right?”

Now they'd been engaged for a month and Genos could hardly believe his luck. His ring, a braid of silver and gold, glinted in the bright summer sunlight as Saitama let go of his hand to open the door.

“I want to show you something.”

“I thought you said you just wanted to be alone together?”

“Oh I do, I do, but this is interesting. You'll like it.” Saitama led the way into his sitting room, which was decorated in red and pink and curious liver shapes. “What do you think?”

“What... is it?”

“Valentine's Day! I just learned about it.”

Genos felt his eyes widen. “You're not thinking-”

“No no, no, of course not.” Saitama handed Genos a liver-shaped box. “But it's something new, you know? Something to look forward to. Even if we're technically like... four months late.”

Genos opened the box and found an assortment of chocolates. “Oh, candy!”

“Yeah, there's a lot of candy. And...” Saitama smiled, eyes going red and hot. “Other things. Romantic things. Stuff like... ribbons. And lace.”

Genos smirked. “Would you like to show me?”

“I would like nothing more.”

 


End file.
